


Gifts from the Gods

by Resri



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Alien Culture, Alpha Centauri - Freeform, Angst, Bad Shit will start happening in chapter 8, Child Abuse, Child Murder, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I can't listen to any of their songs without having Feels about this story, I'm not dead I swear, I'm still working on this, Kid Peter Quill, Kree (Marvel), M/M, Medical Experimentation, Slavery, The titles all come from lyrics of Tribe Society songs, Violence, Yondad, Zatoan culture, and continue for some time, just very slowly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-01-29 23:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12641676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resri/pseuds/Resri
Summary: Inspired by Write_like_an_American's comic, the backstory for how Yondu got his arrow.What if the Kree came a little later? What if Yondu had already been an adult (technically). What if there had been a little boy long before Peter ever left Earth?Yondu is 18 when he decides to fulfill his father's wishes and make an heir.Well, it's less of a well thought-out and informed decision, and more of a drug-induced idea that sounded good at the time.But now the little one is on the way, and Yondu might as well throw his whole life into disarray and do the job right.





	1. There's no one to blame but you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Write_like_an_American](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Write_like_an_American/gifts).



> This was inspired by Write_like_an_American and their heart wrenching, gut punching backstory for how Yondu got his arrow, where he had a kid that tragically died. Read it! (http://write-like-an-american.tumblr.com/tagged/backstory)  
> I needed to fix it, or I would have never recovered.  
> Also, this references many many things and a few people from My Stars and Yours, also by Write_like_an_American and RedRarebit. I feel like a dirty little thief. Thank you so SO MUCH for letting me borrow your wonderful stuff <3
> 
> Furthermore, thank you HaviCat, you are brilliant and my motivation

Yondu is 18 when he decides to fulfill his father's wishes and make an heir.  
Well, it's less of a well thought-out and informed decision, and more of a drug-induced idea that sounded good at the time. 

It's the middle of the night, and apart from the sentries most of the villagers sleep. Yondu lays in the grass under his tree, staring up at the stars through the settlement's sparse canopy while the teku root is running its course through his body. Next to him sits Jaku, dragging a deep breath of the biting smoke into her lungs. Her unfocused eyes are staring off into the middle distance.  
While it never really gets cold in the tropic forest the Zatoans call their home, there is a strong breeze tonight cooling the moisture on his skin, so he snuggles up to Jaku. He leans his temple against her shoulder, their arms and sides touching, and buries his toes in the dead leaves that cover the ground. The contact snaps her out of her stupor and she lets her head loll around, sluggish pupils doing their best to focus on him before a lazy smirk spreads over her features. 

“Shuddup,” Yondu mumbles, making grabby hands at her, “and gimme the smoke.” 

Jaku snorts, but complies, and Yondu sucks on the leave wrapped dried mixture of herbs and root that slowly simmers away. It burns all the way down to his lungs, and the sounds and sensations around him seem to dull while the lights overhead get brighter at the same time.  
He feels like he might start to float, like the stars above have tethered him to the dark firmament and lift him off of Anthos face, like he will fall apart and become one with the night.  
Suddenly the joint is plugged out of his mouth. 

“You're drooling,” Jaku informs him and stubs it out on his thigh. He doesn't even feel the burn. 

She grins smugly at him, and Yondu is reminded why he and Jaku usually don't like each other much. She's an ass hole, and has been since he can remember.  
They are the same age and have both been hunters since they were fourteen. Their fierce competitiveness and relatively equal skill level, paired with their giant egos, makes for a fiery mixture. Plus, Jaku idolizes his mother, leader of the hunters, with whom Yondu has never seen eye to eye on anything. She'd always side with Pharaqa over him, which is just stupid in his opinion.  
The two youths often have screaming matches in the middle of the village that occasionally progress into fist fights, but woe betide the idiot brainless enough to try and break up the fight, or, Anthos forbid, take a side.  
An old woman in the village has once said even Anthos himself would be scared if he had the combined wrath of Yondu and Jaku focused on him. The memory makes Yondu smirk.  
The life of the hunters is a dangerous one, though, and people holding grudges usually die first in the forest.  
Also, when they are not busy trying to best each other, they have enough traits in common that a budding, grudging friendship developed. It was born in the adrenaline rush of hunts, and has grown through shared teku root and a nasty sense of humor. Because, and Yondu is self aware enough to admit it, he is an ass hole as well. 

So he can forgive Jaku for being cocky. After all, they both love to hate each other, with the occasional peaceful drug trip under the night sky when all good little Centaurians are in their nests. That thought makes Yondu stare up at the underside of his hut, and he wonders why he is on the ground in the wind instead of up there in his pelts. He pokes Jaku in the thigh. 

“Why are we here?” 

For a moment she only blinks at him slowly, and then shrugs, which makes Yondu's head nearly slide from it's place on her shoulder. 

“I guess you are here to take the place of your father one day, as our chief and spiritual leader, and to guide us into a better future. I hope that my reason of existence is to once be the best huntress of our tribe, to bring us glory on the hunt and to guard the village,” she slurs. 

“What?” Yondu says. He isn't quite sure what he asked in the first place, but he is certain this answer was not what he was looking for. 

Jaku starts laughing hysterically. 

“I just tried to imagine you being a spiritual leader!” She sounds strangled when she says it, still fighting to regain her breath, and Yondu scowls up at her not only because her continued giggling is rattling him. 

“Oh yeah? Like you'd make a better leader of the hunters. Ya think you'll get somewhere by smooching my ma?”

“Your mother loves me more than you. She even wants me to be the mother of her first grandchild, she told me herself!”

“See, if she'd really love ya, she wouldn'a be trying to pawn you off on me, 'cause she can't stand me and that means she hates ya,” Yondu grumps while Jaku nods at him and only laughs harder. Now that he's started ranting about his parents, he doesn't feel like stopping just yet. 

“What really pisses me off is that the first time in my entire life Pharaqa and Uzuko agree with each other, it's when they want me to pop out a brat for them! Jus' yesterday the old geezer was giving me crap about choosing a partner an' 'mentally preparing for fatherhood', like it's not still half a year 'till rain season. Like I don't got all my Anthos damned life still!”

“You're right,” Jaku giggles. “I, too, really can't understand why they'd want a mini-you running around. You were a fucking twit when we were little.” 

“Oh yeah?” Yondu struggles up out of his slouch to glower at Jaku. The movement makes him feel like his brain is lagging behind, reaching it's new position in space and time a mite after the rest of his body. He has to steady himself with a hand on Jaku's shoulder, which earns him an eye roll. 

“Yeah, and you haven't changed much.” 

“I'm a fucking delight,” Yondu snaps, waving a finger in her face and nearly jabbing her in the eye when the world wobbles around them. She lets her head fall back against the tree trunk to save her eye sight, bending her tahlei to the side at what looks to be an uncomfortable angle. She doesn't seem to notice, trying to bat away his hand with sluggish waves and missing every time. 

“No, you're not, asshole.”

“And I was a fucking delight as a kid, too-”

“When we were eight seasons old, you bit me in the tahlei out of spite after I was better in hand-to-hand combat than you. I still have the scars to prove it!” 

“-and my mini-me will be a fucking delight, too!” 

“Only if it has a ma that'd compensate your rotten influence!” she claims loftily. 

“Oh, and ya think you're so awesome?” 

Jaku grins at him, smug and self-satisfied. “Your mother seems to think that, or she wouldn't try to talk me into having your offspring.”

Of course. 

“Ya know what? Fuck them” He settles his hands on her shoulder and gives her a little shake that only makes her giggle again. “They act like they can't wait to have a little blighter, we should get them one.” 

“Like, right now?” Jaku asks dubiously, and Yondu realizes that he's practically sitting in her lap, and suddenly warmth rushes to his cheeks as well as the bottom of his stomach.  
Both of them are wearing only the traditional loincloth and nothing but. Yondu scrutinizes her for a moment the best he can through the haze in his brain, let's his eyes travel down her body -it's a very nice body, all things considered - then gives a decisive nod. 

“Yep. Right now.” 

“It's not the rain season,” she cautions. 

“Fuck the rain season!” That earns him a derisive snort, but one of her hands settles on his chest none the less. It's very warm on his cooled skin, and permeates the fog of his senses. 

“You have a one track mind, don't you?” Jaku mumbles, and suddenly her voice sounds very different than before. Her eyes are focused on the spot where her fingers meet his pectoral. She gives the firm muscle a squeeze and Yondu wonders idly if she'd kill him if he did the same with her. 

“Hey, you're the one that keeps telling me what a good ma you'd make.”

“Oh, I would. Not even you could screw my kid up!” she shoots back with a grin. 

The young hunters, those who have never participated in the rain season's activity, often talk about it when the older people aren't around. While the basics of what you gotta do are a known fact, the specifics are a matter of rumors and stories. They make crude jokes, and wonder. Yondu and Jaku are among those young hunters, and usually laugh about it like the others, but right now it feels a hell of a lot different.  
He is warm all over, especially where he has skin contact with Jaku. The way her eyes travel over him makes something in his stomach tingle. His jumbled brain, still in a haze from the teku root, receives all of his body's signals and promptly silences the common sense that tells him what a fundamentally stupid idea this is. 

So he husks out, “You in a baby makin' mood then?” and Jaku seems to be in a similar state of mind, because she only hesitates for a moment before she says, “Not on the cold ass ground.”

“Well, I got a load of warm pelts up there,” Yondu points up at his hut with a sleazy grin that Jaku returns. 

“Then why are we still down here when we could be up there?”

Yondu struggles to his feet and grabs her hands, hauling her up as well, which is an impressive feat considering Yondu loses his balance and tumbles to the ground right afterwards. Jaku can keep herself from face planting in his chest, but only barely.  
They both giggle like idiots when they finally manage to get their feet under them, two drunks supporting each other. Their climb up into Yondu's home is a difficult one with the world unnecessarily twisting around them, and Jaku, who's climbing ahead of him, hissing down for Yondu to keep his Anthos-damned hands to himself until they're inside.


	2. I always wondered how far we could go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning consists of hangover and embarrassment. They don't talk much, except to promise each other to never speak of this again before Jaku sneaks out of Yondu's hut. They were high, it happened once, ain't nothing coming of it. 
> 
> That promise gets broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yondu gets hit a lot. He may or may not deserve it, the opinions differ. 
> 
> There is a teeny, tiny SGA reference here. You find it, you get a virtual hug from me.

The next morning consists of hangover and embarrassment. They don't talk much, except to promise each other to _never_ speak of this again before Jaku sneaks out of Yondu's hut. They were high, it happened once, ain't nothing coming of it. 

That promise gets broken about a month later, when on an early morning Yondu gets roughly woken up by a fist in the gut. He shoots up, flailing and coughing and cursing at Jaku. 

She had made herself scarce over the last few days, and while Yondu had been a _little_ annoyed about that (because with whom could he make fun about the shit heads and the less talented hunters without Jaku?), he had left her in peace.  
Hey, if she wanted to act all weird and distant after their ill advised romp in the pelts, he wouldn't crowd her. 

Now, she leans over him looking furious, and ready to give him a second punch to the gut. Yondu, still wheezing from his wake up call, barely manages to throw up his arms and deflect the on coming blow. Getting his feet under him is more complicated than anticipated, with his legs still tangled in the bedding, and his brain still half asleep. 

“What the actual fuck, woman?!” 

“That all you think about, you twit?! Anthos damned shit, this is all your fault!”, she all but screeches at him. Yondu finally manages to crawl out of his nest, under the steady onslaught of Jaku's slaps. He is butt naked, but doesn't really give a lick, considering what they did in this very place about four weeks ago. 

“What are ya talkin' 'bout?” 

“What am I talking about?! You and your stupid ass ideas, of course. Did your father drop you on the head when you were a pouchling?” 

Yondu only glares indignantly at that, hands on his hips, and Jaku's eyes flick down to his crotch before she can catch herself and return them to his face. Her dark blue blush might not be entirely from fury, but there is still enough of that left that she grabs a pelt of the nest and hurls it at Yondu. 

“Cover yerself, no one wants to see your bits dangling around!” she demands. 

“Really? 'Cause that weren't what you said four weeks ago,” he says with a leery grin which makes Jaku only look like she wants to punch out all of the teeth he's showing, so he complies and wraps the soft fur around his hips. 

“Guess I was shitfaced enough to be blind _and_ dumb,” she grits out with an impressive snarl. 

“Oh, come off it. It was fun, weren't it? You enjoyed yerself just fine,” after a bit of a rocky start, he doesn't add. It had taken a while to get where it felt good, but they had managed to everyone's satisfaction, in the end. 

“Yeah, it was fun, but it ain't anymore. It's fucking serious now!” Jaku snaps, wrapping her arms around her middle and suddenly all the fury and fire drains out and all she's left with is desperation. Something in Yondu's barely-awake brain snaps into place, then, the shit-eating grin drops and his gaze flicks down to her stomach. 

“Crap,” he says faintly. 

“Crap, indeed,” Jaku sniffs. 

~

“Are you sure?” 

The question earns him a punch to the shoulder, but it's considerably less hard than the ones that woke him.  
They are walking side by side down a path they found about two years ago when out on their own, away from their hunt siblings. They used it often since, following the tracks left by the tosh'khi, the little cloven-hoofed mammals living in the underbrush of the forest. 

“I mean, how'd you know?” 

“I know because I can feel it, and 'cause I know the signs. Seen the women that participated in the rain season.” 

Yondu winces, and wonders how hard she'd punch him if he asked if she maybe, just maybe, ate something off. They left the village with their bows and arrows as soon as Yondu had put his loincloth on, marching into the jungle and glaring thunderously enough that nobody they met on their way out had dared to say a word. They, too, have been quiet, but while Yondu would really like to break the oppressive silence, he's smart enough to keep that particular question to himself. And anyway, a queasy feeling has settled in his stomach since they left his hut, too. He understands her urge to hurl. 

Another couple of minutes pass before Jaku finally says something again. 

“What are we gonna do?” 

That's a question Yondu doesn't have an answer to. He's light headed, thoughts jumbling around wildly and never really settling on anything long enough, while at the same time a heavy weight seems to rest on his chest, not letting him draw enough air, no matter how deep he breathes in. 

A kid. A little living Centaurian being. Born out of season and in shame. 

Yondu shrugs, and Jaku scowls. 

“We gotta tell someone. Follow the proper rituals.” 

“Why, we already broke the big rule. We got a brat on the way outside the rain season, rituals don't matter now.” 

“Just 'cause we screwed up once don't mean we gotta do the rest wrong, too. You know what usually happens to the ones born out of season. They never get older than a year, maybe two. We can try and give ours a better start!”

“What, so we have more time to get attached before it dies?” Yondu snarls, suddenly furious. 

Pouchlings getting born out of season is not unheard of. It's something to be ashamed of, though, and while the little ones don't get actively punished for their parents indiscretion, they don't get anything for free, either. Life is hard, carnivores are hungry, illnesses are contagious, and only one out of four pouchlings reaches maturity under normal circumstances. The chances for one born out of season are... slim, to say the least.  
The thought makes something small and new in Yondu's chest twist and a shiver run up his tahlei, and he doesn't like it. 

“You're an ass hole, you know that?!” Jaku's voice is just a raw hiss, and her glower would be as impressive as ever if it wasn't for her wobbly chin. She is one of the strongest, fiercest warriors Yondu knows, fast and skilled and brilliant on the hunt. He has never had the urge to protect her until now. The thrum in his tahlei, like a primordial need to keep the mother of his unborn child healthy and happy, is unsettling. 

“Yeah” he says resigned, a hand coming up to rub the bridge of his nose. He doesn't want to deal with any of this, but Jaku is right. This was his stupid, drug induced idea. He is the future chieftain of the Zatoan tribe, and eventually he'll have to act like it, too. 

“I don't want to be shamed,” Jaku murmurs then, not looking at him. “And I don't want it to die.” 

“Oh please, neither of us gives a shit what the idiots in the village think” Yondu snorts, a tiny bit grateful when it makes Jaku roll her eyes. 

“No matter. We're gonna screw this up, Yondu. Big time. Neither of us have siblings, we know shit all about pouchlings or raising them. We may be the best damn hunters in the pack, but we are no village sitters, and we sure as fuck aren't parents!” Jaku looks sick. He isn't sure if it's the brat throwing her body for a loop, or the talk about it being out and needing them to actively work with it. 

There is dread in his gut, thinking about the growing thing in her belly and what it will mean for both of their futures. Kids weren't exactly on his to-do list for at least another five years. He sees his place (and Jaku's) in the forest with the other hunters, the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins and the presence of the flora, the animals and his hunt siblings thrumming in his tahlei, making his soul light up with a brightness like the stars in the night, connecting him with Anthos in a way that seems unachievable in the confines of the village. It's dangerous, of course. The jungle and its occupants devour Centaurians on every venture into its depths, but it's also joy and freedom. A freedom he'll lose once he has to apprentice himself to his father to learn the trade of the chieftain. Yondu has hoped to get in a few more years as a hunter before that day comes and he'll have to suffer his father's relentless corrections and admonitions, criticizing his every move. The old man wants to make a responsible future chieftain out of him, and sees Yondu lacking in every way. The situation he is in now will be just another confirmation for everything Uzuko thinks of his son already. He doesn't have to think about it long to know what his father will see in the kid, that little thing that is as much Yondu as it is Jaku, and that breaks Anthos' law by existing. 

Fuck him, Yondu thinks, and says with more confidence than he feels, “This happened, nothin' we can do to change it. But we're gonna be the most badass parents to this kid, because i say so! Fuck everybody who's gonna tell us we aren't!”

Finally, Jaku's gaze lands back on his, and he puts the biggest, toothiest, most self-assured smirk on his face. He's not sure he pulls it off perfectly, but bull shitting was always his strong suit, so he hopes for the best. After a few seconds of watching him carefully, Jaku let's out a breath and shakes her head. 

“Just like that?” she asks, unbelieving, but at least not so desolate anymore. 

“Yep. I mean, we still got about six months to learn what we gotta do. We're gonna ask my dad 'bout the specifics. He's the boss village sitter and knows all the rules, he gotta be able to teach us. He's been wanting to teach me shit for ages now.”

“Your parents are gonna kill us. You know that, right?”

“Well, the two old fuckers should be grateful, it's them who wanted an Anthos damned grandchild!” 

“I'm pretty sure they didn't mean like this!” Jaku spits, going from peeved to positively pissed, which is a far better look on her than sad and hopeless, in Yondu's opinion. 

“I don't give a shit,” he claims breezily. 

“Anthos above.” Her mutter sounds pained and she says it with feeling, but it makes something spark in Yondu's brain. An idea forms, and he's pretty sure it's a bad one of truly epic proportions, right up there with making a baby outside of rain season. 

“Thassit!” 

“What?” 

“Anthos above. We'll get the little blighter a better chance to grow up and we won't get shamed, 'cause we'll tell'em he was a gift from Anthos.” 

Jaku blinks at him, uncomprehending. 

“...What?” 

“We claim Anthos made us do it. I mean, I'm gonna be the next leader of the tribe, it's a commonly practiced rite to smoke teku root to find a deeper connection with Anthos. I tell'em that's what happened, that Anthos sent a sign 'cause he wanted us to make the kid right that moment. For, you know... reasons that ain't clear yet.”

There is something like fascinated horror on her face when she starts shaking her head slowly. 

“You're crazy. You took so much Teku you lost your mind. It's heresy, dumb ass! You say that, your father will kill you with his bare hands!”

“Nah, he won't. He'll be furious, but it's not like he could prove differently.”  
It looks like pissing off his father will be the only bright side of the whole thing. Yondu can't fight down the self-satisfied smirk.  


“That's... that's so fucking stupid, I can't even... It's so _you_.” Jaku shakes her head a little more, and then huffs grudgingly, “It might work”


	3. Lost in a world full of non believers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So maybe telling a five foot tall psycho and a snobby zealot about their out of seson made grandkid is gonna be harder than anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yondu gets hit again. A lot.

„Pharaqa will be so disappointed in me,“ Jaku mutters from beside him. They sit in the chieftain's hut side by side, waiting for Uzuko to have time for them. The man had looked dubious when Yondu and Jaku had walked up to him and a couple of arguing Centaurians whose dispute his father tried to decide, and asked when he could spare a moment to discuss something in private, together with Pharaqa.  
Both of Yondu's parents have yet to arrive, and the waiting is driving him crazy. 

“Don't you mean in us?” he asks after a moment.

“Nah, the only thing she expects from you is disappointment anyway, so you're doing fine,” Jaku answers flippantly, and though she's being her annoying self, it's a whole lot better than the sad iteration from before. He's glad his not entirely real bravado has given her some of her spunk back.

“Oh, har-de-har. At least I won't be the one breaking her black little heart. What will you do when you're not her favorite anymore?” 

“I'm sure you can give me some pointers, since you've never been anyone's favorite, ever.”

Just when Yondu wants to bark out a proper response to her smart ass comments, the curtain in front of the entrance gets pulled back and Pharaqa comes in, followed by Uzuko. When his mother's gaze lands on him and Jaku, probably wearing twin expressions of dread, she sighs something that suspiciously sounds like “Anthos above,” before walking in further.

“Yondu, what have you talked the poor girl into helping you fuck around with this time?” she asks with long suffering, and Yondu can barely bite back the 'Funny you should ask like that'. While pissing of his mother is usually one of his most cherished leisure-time activities, he plays on her being more gleeful about his father's impending anger than angry about her star pupil's and her son's situation.  
Because he'll need her help with Uzuko, who has rounded them and takes a seat opposite the hunters, fixing his son with a weary gaze. His every movement makes the gold rings in his tahlei jingle, one for every year he has been the leader of the Zatoan tribe.

“Greetings, chieftain,” Jaku says with a deep bow before her leader. Yondu only nods, plastering a grin on his face that feels wrong, and says, “Dad.”

“Greetings, children. I trust you are doing well? I heard the both of you left the village this morning  
in quite a hurry.”

Yondu hesitates, and he feels Jaku stiffen at his side. He has to be confident for this to work properly, and for his partner in more than crime to pull it off.

“That is actually why we wanted to speak to Pharaqa and you.”

He looks at his father, who wears a face like a mask, his expression slightly curious and mild, and his mother, standing to the side, leaning against a wooden beam with her arms crossed over her chest, watching them suspiciously. Yep, this audience is a tough one.

“Remember how you said you wanted us to make a kid?” Yondu asks, fake cheerful, and grabs Jaku's hand. To her credit, she only makes to pull away for a second, before she lets him hold it between them.

“I remember imploring you to let us begin your education and to prepare for your duty, for which starting a family is an important step,” Uzuko intones gravely, but there is a mild smile on his face now. “Can I gather out of this that the two of you have decided to come together for the next rain season?”

Even Pharaqa dredges up a rare, honest smile that has nothing malicious or snarky in it.  
This is it, Yondu has to do this right.

“Yes!” he says brightly “...and no.”

The hopeful expressions drain off his parents' faces fast. When Uzuko says, “Yondu.” he puts all his weariness and long-suffering into that one word. It makes Yondu feel like an unruly pouchling, and he hates it with a passion, but before he can snap, Jaku fingernails dig into the back of his hand. It stings like a bitch, but brings him back on track. He takes a deep breath and begins his explanation.

“'bout a month ago, I had a vision from Anthos, showing me signs, and like you taught me, I interpreted them. There was only one meaning I could gather: He is looking upon our union,” here he lifts Jaku's sweaty hand “with fondness. So we, uh,” he breaks off when Uzuko's face goes through all the stages of grief in under a second, before it resettles into the chieftain's mask. 

“So you what?” There is something dangerous in his voice.

“We, uh, we followed his directions, so to speak,” Yondu stutters out. A heavy silence hangs over their heads for a moment. 

“Tell me you two foolish kids didn't do what I think you did!” Uzuko growls with a thunder that is usually reserved for the days of judgment, when the chieftain has to hold court over the fate of criminals. Yondu dares a quick look to the side, where his mother's face has turned navy. She's clenching her teeth so hard, he imagines he can hear them grinding together. No help from her. Jaku is pale and her grip is vice like.

“Well, I'm not completely sure what you think we did,” he tries timidly, turning back to his father.

“Tell me she is not expecting a child from you!” is ground out, cracks appearing in the mask that is Uzuko's face.

“I mean,” Yondu starts, and can't stop himself from being his usual bratty self. “I could tell you that, but I think we both know it'd be a lie.”

Yondu expects the cursing (even though there is more swearing upon Anthos' name than is strictly okay for the leader and highest spiritual of the Zatoan tribe). What he does not expect is the open palmed smack to the cheek. The pain doesn't register at first, and before he can make more than an indignant sound, a second blow hits, this time to the back of his head. It came from Pharaqa, who looks only slightly less furious than Uzuko, but does not stop at just one smack. By the time Yondu ducks to the side, his left ear rings.

“Why is everybody hitting only me?! Jaku helped making it, too!” he all but whines. 

“I'm not gonna smack a pregnant woman, you little shit, even if she's a flarkin' moron for letting you screw her!” Pharaqa screeches, and gives Yondu another smack. Jaku looks torn between anger and embarrassment. 

“It's not important who instigated your foolish, shameful encounter!” Uzuko yells. “What matters is that you broke Anthos' law! You are the future chief of this tribe, the link between our god and our people, you can't just go around shitting on the rules!”

Yondu wants to stick to his story, go on telling a lie with a straight face, but all that comes out is a strangled “Did you just say 'shitting'?”  
His conceited father using that word seems too unreal, even in this situation.

Both men are blinking at each other wide eyed for a moment, one in shock and one in speechless fury, and Yondu knows that he has to be the one breaking the silence, or this will end badly for Jaku and him. And their little sproglet.  
So he takes a deep breath, pulls all of his considerable bravado together (helped along with a hand squeeze), and declares “We didn't break no rules, 'cause Anthos told me it was the right time to do it!”

It takes a moment for Uzuko to find his voice, but then he grits the words out like it physically pains him.

“Don't lie to me, Yondu. It is shameful, and you'll make it only worse, for both of you.”

“We are three now,” he answers, which earns him another hand squeeze. “And I'm not lying. Anthos spoke to me.”

“I don't believe you.”

“A lack of faith is not a good trait in a chief, father,” Yondu snaps without thinking in a creepily accurate imitation of Uzuko, because his father has said these words a hundred times to him. He immediately regrets it when Uzuko's face does something funny, parts of it turning navy, others going pale. While he would never say so out loud, he can admit in the privacy of his head that it's a bit scary. He might have never seen Uzuko this level of apoplectic before.

And then all hell breaks lose.

“How dare you question my faith, you little heathen?!” his father roars, making everyone in the hut flinch, and leaps out of his seat with surprising agility for a normally calm, middle aged man. He looks practically murderous. Yondu clambers to his feet, too, pulling Jaku up with him and keeping her slightly behind himself when a shiver runs through his tahlei.  
This is bad. Really bad. How is he going to talk his way out of this?

“Chief!” It is surprisingly Pharaqa's stern voice who breaks through the tension. It makes Uzuko stop in his tracks and divert his blazing glare at her for a moment.

“Fucking idiot” Jaku hisses in Yondu's ear, quietly enough that his parents don't hear. Her nails must have drawn blood by now.

Pharaqa holds up her hands in a placating manner when she says, “I believe we can all agree that our boy is a shit head, and doesn't know when to keep his big mouth shut. But-” and here she sends a seething look to him and Jaku before refocusing on Uzuko, “maybe we should try to stay calm and deal with this situation like civilized adults. We can always beat Yondu up later.”

The chief, even through his fury, seems to see her reason, because he takes a few deep, calming breaths, and growls, “Some here are not yet as adult as their age and standing would suggest.”  
His eyes find Yondu's again, boring into his soul.

“Or else they wouldn't have the audacity to call drug induced apparitions signs of our god.”

“You use teku root when you wish to be closer to Anthos, and you taught me the art of divining the signs sent by Him,” Yondu says with a raised voice, fighting his nerves down now that his father doesn't seem to be on the brink of murder anymore. 

“An art you never mastered, or put much work into learning at all,” Uzuko grouses, and just like  
that, Yondu gets an opening.

“And now you have the opportunity to teach me better! With the brat, I'll have to be a village sitter for the foreseeable future. I will be your apprentice like you wanted, and learn the ways of Anthos proper like. Become the future chief you was always trying to raise. Don't you see? This is all part of His will!”

Uzuko shakes his head.

“Even if those weren't all atrocious lies, you two fools realize the child will not survive it's first year, right? The ones born out of season never do.”

“They die because they do not get supported,” Jaku breaks in, and it's Yondu's turn to give her hand a squeeze.

“She's right. If you announce that we acted according to Anthos will, which we did, the little one wouldn't be born in shame. It'd have a chance!”

His father's eyes jump between Yondu and Jaku, taking in their expressions. Pharaqa hums, before offering casually, “If I'd declare Jaku my official successor as the hunters' leader in case of my death, it would give the whole thing an even holier look.”

That makes Jaku gasp, Yondu grin, and Uzuko glower.

“It is not about the look!” he barks, earning a covert eye roll from Pharaqa.

“It is for these two morons and their brat, and it is for me, since it concerns both my son and my disciple.”  
They glare at each other reproachfully.  
It physically pains Yondu to say, “You are right, father”, but when he has the attention of his surprised father and his indignantly sputtering mother, he continues with, “It isn't about our image, but maybe that's all part of the plan!”

It makes Uzuko's expression sour again.  
“Are you really still trying to tell me that your iniquity was predestined? That your indiscretion was meant to be?!”

“Hey, who am I to question Anthos' will?” Yondu says with all his fake earnestness. 

“You heard him, my chief,” Pharaqa cackles. “It's a gift from Anthos.” 

 

~

 

Plans are made, about how they will announce the news to the village, about Yondu's future education (“beginning the very next fucking day, you heathen!”), and Jaku's official place as Pharaqa's second, once the child is born. There is a lot of cursing going on, mostly between chief and huntress, while Yondu and Jaku actually manage to keep their mouths shut for most of the time. Yondu is kind of proud of himself that he does not take his victory and screws it up. He might not like his new position as village sitter, as his daddy's little pupil, but the tingle in his tahlei, reaching from his forehead to the base of his spine, tells him he did something right.

When they are finally allowed to leave, they practically run from the hut. This makes Yondu notice that he is still holding onto Jaku's disgustingly sweaty hand. He looks down at it a little confused, noting the welts from where fingernails scraped him up. His partner in crime notices his confused expression, and follows his line of sight. Then they lock gaze and he receives the tiniest, prettiest smile.

“I think I was wrong, before. You may not be anybody else's favorite, but I guess you're mine,” Jaku murmurs, before she drops his hand and walks away. Yondu's cheeks are warm, but he blames it on the two docent slaps he just got. The happy thrum in his tahlei, on the other hand, is not so easily explained away.

“Oh, my boy,” Pharaqa's voice makes him spin around. She leans in the doorway, arms crossed in front of her chest, with a curious look in her eyes.

“What,” Yondu bites out, suddenly defensive again, and wipes his hand on his loin cloth. It makes his mother snort.

“You are both idiots,” she says after a moment. “but I trust you to not screw this up. The two of you make a good team.”  
It's probably one of the nicest things Pharaqa has ever said to him.

Then she walks away, in the same direction Jaku went, and Yondu is left alone, feeling weird but  
not altogether bad.


	4. Painted with passion, my favorite color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pregnancy - Part 1

The announcement in the village goes like this:  
Yondu makes a big show and tell of the vision Anthos supposedly sent him. Opinions are divided, some believing their future chief's words, some knowing Yondu flarkin' Udonta too well to take anything he says at face value.  
Most doubts get dissipated when Uzuko very grudgingly declares that his son's words are the truth, and adds that Yondu now fully begins his education.  
When Pharaqa makes Jaku her heir and claims it's fate, the deal is sealed.  
There are still a few rolled eyes, but nobody fights the verdict. That night, when the evening feast is held, Jaku and Yondu get grouped with the currently pregnant couples who give them all kinds of advice. After a while, both of them look horrified. The elders tease Pharaqa and Uzuko, who bear it with grace, and people are generally happy.  
Life goes on. 

Since Jaku is already one month along, she'll only have to go two more before she'll pop out the egg. That will go into Yondu's pouch, where the shell will dissolve and the sproglet can undergo incubation for another four months before it will see the light of day for the first time.  
While it's still in her, Jaku can't go hunting, which pisses her off to no end. She vents her frustration at the one person she sees responsible for this predicament. 

“What?! What the fuck do you want?!” she all but screeches at Yondu when he climbs into her hut one evening while she is puking her guts out. 

“Now thas' just disgusting,” he says, and gets a wooden cup hurled at his head. It's thankfully empty. Yondu grabs it out of the air with his hunter's reflexes, and evacuates the room swiftly when she hollers, “GET OUT!” at the top of her lungs before retching again. 

He doesn't stay away long, though. After a brisk walk to the creek that splits the village in two, he clambers up the tree that holds Jaku's hut and enters through the drape covered door without asking permission.  
Jaku is still cowering in the corner, but has stopped emptying her stomach. Yondu sets the cup with fresh water down, and hauls her away from her mess, depositing her in the nest. She is pale and sweaty, and her expression is one of burning misanthropy, but he still grabs the cup and keeps pushing it at her face until she takes it with a snarl. After watching her bring it up to her lips, he whips a wet rag off his shoulder that has been steadily dripping cold trickles down his back, and begins wiping the mess off the floorboards. 

“Thanks,” she grunts into the silence. 

“Whatever,” he answers. When he's finished, he gives his rag a critical look, and jugs it out of the door with as much force as possible. 

“Whose was that?” Jaku asks from her nest. The cup is on the floor again, empty.

“Kisho's. His own damn fault for leaving it to dry out at the creek.” 

She snorts. When they were little, Kisho, a few years older and feeling very important because of it, had always bitched around when they weren't cleaning up after themselves. Yondu and Jaku had often made his life hell. They probably still do.  
“Serves him right.” 

Yondu flops down on his front in the nest next to Jaku, stretching across as much space as possible. He rests his head on the soft furs, and closes his eyes.  
After some time Jaku starts playing with his tahlei, bending it a little between her hands, letting the tips of her fingers glide over its' edge. It makes a whole lot of happy feelings bubble up deep in his chest, being this close to his pregnant mate, having her touch his crest, having her content. He can feel the life in her womb, like an echo of her presence. Healthy and hale. 

“How was your day?” he finds himself asking without really thinking, but for once Jaku doesn't mock him. 

“Meh. I spent it with the mothers, preparing and delivering food to the carrying men. They are all swollen and whining. Probably'll pop open in about a week.” 

“I know,” Yondu groans. “I gotta visit them bloated heaps of self-pity every day, for learning purposes,” he mimics his father's voice. “And getting to know my people, as if I don't know all these idiots since I was born.” 

Jaku snorts again, and gives his tahlei a teasing pinch. 

“You're gonna be one of them soon enough.” 

“Not if Uzuko kills me before that,” he mumbles into the fur, and hears Jaku sigh. 

“So you're being your usual dickhead self, then?” 

“Fuck you, I'm awesome. Uzuko is just old and uptight.”   
The pinch he gets now isn't so much teasing as it's a little painful. 

“You die before I can press out this thing and shove it in your pouch, I'll kill ya.”

“That doesn't even make sense,” he grumbles, turning his head and squinting up at her. To his surprise, she's grinning. 

“I don't give a shit. You gonna feel my pain.” 

Before Yondu can tell her what he thinks about that idea, the horns sound, initiating the village wide shuffling to the fire pit at the center of the settlement. It's time for the evening meal, where Yondu will have to be at his father's side, reciting the ritual blessing and giving food to the elders. 

With a groan he sits up to stretch his arms above his head, making his spine pop, and gives Jaku a critical once-over.  
“You think you can keep down dinner?” 

She shrugs and rests a hand on her still mostly flat belly. During the next month, a tiny lump will show, but the one getting fat in the foreseeable future will be Yondu.  
“I'm so hungry I could eat a yollop.” 

At Yondu's raised eyebrow, she laughs.  
“If it won't stay down, I got you to mop it up.” 

~

Jaku sits in the door of her hut, her feet hanging over the edge and swinging lazily. She watches the world around her through the clear, smooth surface of a purple gemstone. In the village below her a few of the young fathers hang out together, holding their three week old pouchlings. Some of the little ones are clambering around already on all fours, some are soaking up the evening sun laying on their fathers' thighs. In a while they will get returned to the pouch, where the new borns still spend most of their time, warm and safe.  
It's a nice picture. She rests one hand on her stomach, which is a little rounded, and feels the hard lump inside. Not long now. 

Jaku puts the purple gem down and takes up a red one, and looks through it at the leaves of her tree.  
She has a whole collection of the colorful stones, with a new one appearing every other day after a certain blue menace pays her a visit. They just lay next to her nest, placed there stealthily and without a word. Jaku doesn't call him out on it.  
She just smiles, grabs the newest one, and ignores the hundredth exaggerated groan from behind her.  
It's a solid lump, laying easily on her palm. A dozen tiny crystals in the most vibrant azure she has ever seen stick out of it, smooth and reflective as stagnant water. The many sharp edges catch the light prettily. 

There comes another groan, and she finally deigns to ask, “You alright?” in a chipper tone.  
She doesn't have to turn around to know that Yondu is glaring at her. 

“No,” he snaps, and she answers, “Okay.” 

The pause that follows is a short one. 

“Uzuko had a meeting with the elders today, and I had to sit in on it to learn the procedures. You know how long a meeting with the elders lasts, Jaku? All. Fucking. Day. You know what they talk about? They talk about the harvest, the birth numbers, and if Riin stole old Varo's birds again or if old Varo is simply going senile.” 

With a huff of laughter, Jaku turns to look at him. He sits in her nest, legs splayed out and leaned back on his hands. He wears a scowl on his face, moodily watching her. 

“What's the verdict, then?” 

“Oh, Varo's definitely goin' senile, but that doesn't change the fact that Riin is a thief.” 

“So you didn't fall asleep?” she teases, knowing Yondu's opinion on everything politics related. 

“Nah, I even contributed a little, though my sarcasm wasn't appreciated. But I managed not to humiliate myself, and I think I've never seen Uzuko this proud.”  
He sniffs.  
“It was disgusting.”

Jaku smiles at him and his scowl that looks more like a pout, really, and lays her gems in a tidy little line on the floor. Then she pulls her legs up and gets to her feet, a bit less graceful than usually. 

It's time to act on a thing that has been going around her head for a while now. 

With a flick of the wrist, the drapes get dislodged from where they had been held apart, and fall in front of the door again, blocking most of the sunlight out. The inside of the hut is bathed in dark, muted colors, and her eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the dimness. 

“What'chu doing?” Yondu asks as she makes her way over to him. He can't see her grin, only her slightly luminescent eyes. 

She comes to a stand with her feet on each side of his knees, and can make out how he tilts his head back to look up at her. With a flourish she settles on his lap, steadying herself on his shoulders. After giving the tense muscle a squeeze, she lets her hands smooth down his chest until fingertips grace the lip of his pouch. They travel along the rim, and then slide further down his stomach to the cord of his loincloth. 

“What-” Yondu starts, and has to clear his throat. Jaku grins smugly and leans her forehead against his. 

“We could try to work the stress off.” 

In the dark, she sees his eyes flick between hers in a hurried little zigzag.  
“You sure?” 

She likes the rumble in his voice, and that she put it there.  
“Shit, I can't get any more pregnant than this, right?” 

Yondu's arms wrap around her middle, clever fingers dipping below her loincloth, and she takes it as permission to unfasten the knots holding his up.  
He doesn't make his way to his own nest that night.


	5. I close my eyes and see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pregnancy - Part 2

Yondu looks upon the whole scene before him with skepticism. 

Jaku, Riin and Yondu himself are in Jaku's hut. There is a big bowl full of warm water, and a whole stack of rags. The nest, already a cozy place on normal days, is heaped in even more furs and covered with a thick weaved cloth. On top of that lays Jaku, leaning back and cursing up a storm. Old Riin is patiently trying to get her to breathe in a certain manner that is apparently conducive to birthing. It must be something Jaku has heard before, because while she never quite stops cursing Yondu and his entire blood line, past and future, she quickly settles into a rhythm without disparaging the ridiculous sounding instructions.  
Yondu stands in a corner, knowing _in theory_ what is going on, what will happen, and what he'll have to do afterwards, but at this very moment he is just fucking clueless of what he's doing. 

Then Jaku rolls her head around so she can direct her hateful gaze at him, and stretches one hand in his direction. He doesn't move. 

“Yondu,” she presses out between pants. 

“What?” he asks dumbly. 

“I AM GIVING BIRTH TO YOUR OFFSPRING, YOU IDIOT, COME HERE AND HOLD MY FUCKING HAND!”

He hurries over to cradle Jaku's hand in his, and catches the eye roll Riin sends to the ceiling before she focuses back on what's between Jaku's legs.  
Then the old hag tells her to start pressing, and suddenly Yondu has to fight the reflex to wrench his hand away because Jaku seems to be trying to crush it.  
He manages not to yelp in a really undignified manner, and bites his tongue to keep any kind of commentary to himself because Jaku looks like her head is about to explode. Her face turns navy and is screwed up so tightly it might leave creases. The tendons on her neck stand out starkly, and Riin has to remind her to breathe several times before she drags a choked off lung full in.  
“I hate you so, _so_ much,” she tells him through gritted teeth, and Yondu can only answer, “I believe you.” because, yeah, he does. 

Then everything goes really fast. Another push, a drawn out gut deep groan, and Jaku goes limp, flopping onto the furs. Riin holds up a slimy, hand sized egg with a broad and mostly toothless grin.  
Yondu jumps up, extracting his aching hand from Jaku's grip, and grabs a few of the rags to receive the precious cargo and mop it dry.  
The shell is hard, warm, and azure blue. He stares at it wonderingly, because it looks like one of his treasures, and because he can't quite fathom how a living Centaurian being lies beneath the surface. The sensations that run like showers through his tahlei, and Jaku's too, tell him very differently though. 

This here is his. His progeny. His _child_. Unequivocally, irrevocably his. 

He gets pulled out of his trance when Jaku swats at him.  
“Let me see, let me see” she demands, and Yondu acquiesces. He shifts until he can help her prop herself up, carefully balancing their egg in his arm. She lets reverent fingers glide over the surface and slurs, “It's the color of my gem.” sounding happy.  
Riin, who has busied herself with cleaning up Jaku, clears her throat to get their attention.  
“It needs to go in the pouch now, before it cools out.” 

With a sigh, content and absolutely exhausted, Jaku bestows one last pat on the egg, and then Yondu carefully pulls back the lip of his pouch. The two of them let it carefully slip inside, where the shell will dissolve shortly and leave the embryo in the pouch's perfect environment. The lip seals shut in a matter of minutes, and a long four months begin. 

~

Jaku recovers fast, and is participating in easier work with the village sitters the second day after the birth. A week later she goes on a hunt again. It's short, only lasting the one day, but she is ridiculously happy to leave the confines of the village behind.  
Yondu, even if their little one is now residing in him, is still fit and will be for another three months before it has grown too big for him to move around much. He is expected to be at his father's side again immediately. 

The lessons are long and tedious, and he often doesn't understand their significance. Sometimes he thinks that he does get them, only for his father to shake his head and sigh with that patented mixture of long suffering annoyance and a hint of resignation. It rankles, because contrary to popular belief Yondu doesn't spend his every waking moment on coming up with ways to drive his father into madness. For all the times he insists on not needing his parent's approval for anything, he does crave it a little. A teeny tiny bit. An insignificant amount, really, but still.  
Even if he didn't, his pride takes offense in him being simply bad at something, even if it's something stupid like meditating on Anthos will or adjudicating fairly.  
He knows that he is stuck as a village sitter, as Uzuko's pupil, for a while. At least until his pouchling is a few years old, but probably longer. Maybe even forever, depending on how well he is doing and how healthy Uzuko stays.  
Jaku is gone during the days. Not just working on something else than him so he can catch a glance of her in passing, but really away. Sometimes she even misses the evening meals, like most hunters do when they're out on the job. Yondu's forced stay in the village was easier to stand when she was around, sharing the general misery, but at least she comes visit after dark to hang around in his nest and listen to him bitch. It's good that she does, because while his days are torture, being stuck in the tight space that is the village, the tension slowly drains away when she's near, gently poking the bump that is their growing child, and laughing about his imitations of Uzuko. 

During the first month, those evenings are very nearly perfect. His belly is not all that bloated yet, the kid hasn't impacted his appetite apart from Yondu suddenly hating the taste of a certain few vegetables, and the connection between himself, Jaku, and their little one expresses itself with a strong, pleasant prickling in his tahlei. He is still amazed that something can feel this way. Whole and comfortable.  
When he closes his eyes, their connection seems like a soft, warm light. It glows rhythmically behind his lids, like a synchronized heart beat in three chests. 

~

In month two, the puking starts. 

Jaku is caught somewhere between boundless glee, grudging sympathy, and bone deep aggravation, because a Yondu that doesn't feel well is also a Yondu that makes you want to punch him in the face. She holds back, though, for the first time in both their lifes. He is carrying their child, after all. Yondu uses that against her by saying, “This is all your fault” once for every time she has said that to him.  
She comes visiting every night, and sometimes she stays until the first light of the morning sun graces the tree tops. They don't have to worry about another sproglet, because it takes half a year for a female Centaurian to become fertile again after giving birth. 

They make great use of their time. 

One day, Pharaqa catches Jaku sneaking out of Yondu's hut, and gives her a slap on the back of the head and Yondu a scolding. Then she stomps off, grumbling about idiot children, but there is a smirk she can't quite keep off her face. They take it as blessing. 

The lessons with Uzuko continue, naturally. 

“A chief has to be able to function even if he is feeling uncomfortable. Your thinking is not impeded, you are no invalid, and you don't have to do any hard manual labour, so I don't see why we should pause in your education,” Uzuko states, and then makes Yondu recite the orisons that get spoken every night of the rain season. All 7000 verses. 

~

In month three, Yondu is already carrying around quite the weight. That is the reason he doesn't get to live in his own hut anymore, but stays in the chieftain's house that is located on the ground instead of in a tree. It's absolute hell. 

Jaku still visits, but conversation is awkward when Uzuko is nearby. 

To their unmeasurable surprise, it's Pharaqa who saves the day by dropping in on some nights and annoying the chief with ridiculous requests and complaints. More often than not she needs him to come and look at something in or around the village _right the fuck now_ , and they leave for an hour or two.  
Yondu and Jaku know how to use their alone time. 

Uzuko shows Yondu rituals only performed in darkness, and teaches about hearing Anthos' whispers in the winds of the night. Yondu asks about the significance of the stars, and his father only shakes his head and claims them dead lights with the sole purpose of lighting Anthos' creation in the blackness. Yondu disagrees, but keeps his doubts to himself. He's been staring up at the stars long enough to know better, to feel the life in the vastness above, but his father's belief in some things is unshakable. 

It's one of those nights when his father's teachings suddenly become background noise, because there is an abrupt jerk in his stomach region, and after a few seconds a consistent wriggling begins. Of course it's not the first time that the sproglet has moved. It's usually crawling around in search of a teat (having a weird preference for the left one), or when it hears sounds from the outside it can mimic. It was quite the surprise when Jaku had been telling him a fantastic story about some yollop from her last hunt, animated and engaging, and suddenly a loud, eager trill had come from his pouch. Wordless, but conveying the excitement it felt through the pouch bond and voices alike. 

This right now, though, isn't like usually. The little one isn't hungry, because it crawls to the right side of the pouch, and it doesn't answer Uzuko's constant monotone babbling either. It's just moving around for the heck of it, like it has some energy to burn. Like it's annoyed that it got woken in the middle of the night and can't go back to sleep now. 

“Yondu, are you even listening?” His father's exasperated voice pulls him out if his thoughts. 

He blinks up at Uzuko, who studies him with a lifted eyebrow and crossed arms, and then mumbles a little embarrassed, “It's wriggling.” 

He expects a huff or an eye roll. The chief has not warmed up to the idea of this particular grand child all that much, and Yondu is slightly worried he never will, that the sproglet will feel like a disappointment. Like it's daddy sometimes does. 

Instead, Uzuko looks down at his pouch, where a tiny elbow dents it outwards, and asks, “May I?”  
Yondu is so surprised that he nods on automatic, and then watches Uzuko, bane of his existence, settle both hands on his stomach.  
The little one continues it's travel through the pouch, now back from the right side to the left, and Yondu thinks he feels a tiny hand flutter against the gentle pressure of Uzuko's. They sit in silence for a while, the lesson completely forgotten, and spend the time simply as father and son. The two of them share a pouch bond of their own, after all, one that time and resentment hasn't managed to kill off yet. 

Finally, Uzuko breaks the stillness between them by clearing his throat. 

“A little fighter you have there,” he comments. 

“Ya think?” Yondu tries to put confidence into the statement, make it sound like a challenge instead of a question.  
“A survivor,” Uzuko declares with finality, holding his son's gaze. Yondu nods. 

With a smile and a little pat to the pouch, he says, “Go to sleep, boy.”, and maybe that's a blessing all on it's own. 

~

By month four, Yondu's swollen, sore, and always fucking starving, but the smell of most things makes him want to hurl. He is tired all the time and he needs to piss. Again. 

“I know why you only had me,” Yondu grumbles one evening, sitting next to his father in front of his hut, and then startles when Uzuko starts to laugh hysterically. The old man, unperturbed by Yondu's glare, needs several minutes to get himself back under control. 

“Just wait 'till it's popped out, boy,” he wheezes and gives his son's pouch a pat. 

 

Jaku suffers through his bad moods with no grace at all, but he thinks he has to give her props for sticking it out anyway. Her coping mechanism is to make fun of him every chance she gets, and to remind him of a conversation they supposedly had about four months ago. About him being a whiny, bloated jerk. Yondu thinks he might hate her a little, but then she brings him the blandest, most boring piece of bread he has ever tasted, and he forgives her instantly. 

“Stop being such a whiny ass hole, it's gonna be out soon,” she says with a grin, wolfing down a junk of nice, roasted meat. It makes Yondu's lip curl in disgust. 

“Yeah, but apparently the really hard part only starts after that.” 

“So?” is her nonchalant reply. “We are the best hunters in the pack, we are the future leaders of the Zatoan tribe, we're Anthos-damned awesome! I'm sure we'll figure it out!”  
She says it with gusto, and a muffled, but cheery trill rings out. 

“See? It's on my side,” she says, and makes a cooing chirp at Yondu's midsection, the fingers of her free hand splayed out over the pouch where a little body wriggles around happily at it's mother's closeness.


	6. I ain't at home, home's where I'm going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the Yonduling

Then the day of the pouch popping comes. 

It's not going to be a painful bloodbath like the birth was. The father waits until the seal of the pouch, a slimy substance that glues the lip of the thin, elastic membrane shut, dries out and crumbles away. Then the little one can be extracted for the first time in it's life.  
For another two months, it will have to regularly return to the safety of the pouch for feeding, warming up or sleeping. 

Uzuko bestows the standard blessing upon Yondu's round belly, drawing a sigil beneath the lip and saying the ritual words. Yondu has witnessed enough pouch blessings when his education first started six months ago, he could perform the whole thing on himself, but it's a holy tradition that the chief personally asks Anthos for health and safety for the child. So he (semi)patiently watches Uzuko finish his prayers. 

Then the old man sits his ass down in front of him. 

Yondu waits a moment to see if he has something more to do, but nothing else happens, and it shouldn't either because once the chief has done his thing with the prayers and the hand waving around the bump, he leaves the soon to pop open guy alone to go bless the next one. True, at the moment there is no next guy, but still, he should have something else to do. 

But Uzuko stays, and makes idle conversation. 

“Don't you got somewhere else to be?” Yondu interrupts him. His father blinks a little surprised before answering, “No. I have cleared my schedule for today so I can stay.” 

“What for?” Yondu asks dumbly, and his father lifts an eloquent eyebrow. 

“To personally welcome the child into Anthos world, of course.” 

“You don't do that with none of the other pouchlings.” 

“None of them are my grandchildren,” he answers, irritated, like it's the most logical thing ever and Yondu is being an idiot. 

Yondu is bewildered, and turns on Pharaqa who is leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. He assumed she was just waiting on Uzuko for something or other, but feels dread settle in his gut. 

“And you?” he points at her. “Why are you here? You hate kids, especially pouchlings!” 

She just grins at him smugly and says, “Those of _other_ people. None of them are my grandchildren, after all.” 

Yondu looks at Jaku in search of help. She is sitting at his side with her lap full of soft blankets, and only shrugs. It's not unheard of, grandparents being present for the pouchlings emergence, but he didn't think it is something _his_ parents would do. 

Both of Jaku's have been dead for years, but she practically worships the ground Pharaqa walks on, so he figures she's alright with her here, and Uzuko by extension.  
But nobody asked him if he was okay with his old people hanging around. He has had to deal with them non stop for months, and is pretty damn sure he wants this moment for himself, and maybe Jaku, seeing as she helped making the damn sproglet.  
Just as Yondu opens his mouth to tell them what exactly he thinks of their presence, a sharp sting goes through his middle, and all that comes out is an “Ow.” 

They turn to look at him, following his gaze down to the lip of the pouch that is covered in a fine line of blood. A few drops spill over and run down his stomach. The seal is broken. 

“Shit, that ain't fair,” Jaku complains. “I had to press a hand sized egg out, and for you it just goes 'plop' and it's open?” 

She hands him one of the rags, anyway, so he can wipe the first round of mucus off. Then, without much ado, Yondu sticks a hand in the pouch (after slapping away Jaku's), and gently scoops the sproglet up. It brings a whole barrage of slime with it, but Yondu is too busy with mopping his tiny, wriggling offspring dry to care. More blankets are handed to him.  
Finally, the little one lays in a soft, clean cloth in his arms, and he can get look at it, at him, for the first time. Put a face to the unbreakable bond that links them together. 

A small Centaurian boy with two legs and two arms, all the necessary fingers and toes that curl and wiggle, and big, bright, ruby red eyes that look up at his daddy curiously.  
Yondu reverently lets his index finger run over the thin, delicate tahlei, barely more than two centimeters long, and the little one makes a high pitched trill, singing his contentment out into the world.  
Suddenly Yondu's heart is full. At the brink of bursting, even, because this gurgling, squirming creature that's currently drooling on itself is lighting up the world like a third sun in the sky. 

“Damn,” Yondu breathes, and only gets reminded of the people crowding around him when Jaku pats his shoulder urgently and says, “Let me, let me!” 

"No!" he answers on instinct. Jaku just glowers and doesn't quit pestering. He grudgingly hands their son over, but scoots forward until his knees touch Jaku's and they can both bend over the still merrily chirping pouchling. 

Unnoticed by the cooing pair, Pharaqa sidles up to Uzuko, and bumps her elbow into his side.  
“Not bad, huh?” she whispers. “Maybe they'll do a better job than us.”

“Maybe we did a better job than we previously thought,” Uzuko counters, never taking his eyes off his son and grandson. Pharaqa snorts. 

“He turned out alright, didn't he? Still an insolent little shit, though.” 

Uzuko smiles mildly.  
“I wonder from which side of the family he got that.” 

He catches her dark glare from the corner of his eye and adds, “After all, his height comes definitely from you.” 

Before the leader of the hunters can puff herself up to her whole, unimpressive size, Uzuko calls with a raised voice, “May I hold my grandson, too?” 

That gets the young parents attention, who had just been bickering about which one of them was better suited to teach the kid how to shoot a bow. 

Yondu doesn't want to let Uzuko or, Anthos forbid, Pharaqa, hold his son yet, because he is his, but he supposes that they did stick around to welcome the little one, and would probably leave a lot sooner if they could take a closer look. So he doesn't protest when Jaku, after giving him a considering glance, carefully holds the brat out to the chief. He takes him with the practiced ease of both a father and the head village sitter, and cradles the little one against his chest. The softest smile Yondu has ever seen on his father blooms on his features. Pharaqa, who is suddenly practically hanging on Uzuko's shoulder, brings one hand up to give the boy's soft little belly a nudge. It makes him squeal. 

“What will his name be?” Uzuko asks. 

Yondu grins, ridiculously happy and high on endorphins, but he can't let this opportunity to piss his old man off go by. 

“His name's Ytzl, of course” he boasts. 

A muscle in Uzuko's cheek twitches at that, but the old man doesn't stop smiling at his grandson. Ytzl, the _gift_.  
He just murmurs “Of course it is,” and lets the little one suck on his finger.


	7. This is my life and I call it a song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of time passes, and there are ups and downs, but Yondu thinks his life ain't so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name Ytzl comes from Write_Like_An_American's story A Day in the Life (many thanks for letting me borrow it <3 )
> 
> Now with art: https://theinfernalwhistler.tumblr.com/image/169191608666

Ytzl grows.

Centaurians are already born climbers and crawlers, and it's a full time job to watch the little ones. Luckily, there are a lot of people willing to pitch in, as is common in the Zatoan tribe. Had Ytzl been born in shame, it would have been a different story. 

He spends a lot of time in the pouch still, where his little body sucks up the warmth and comfort of his father. Most of his nutrition comes from drinking milk at first. Over the weeks, Yondu and Jaku try to feed him more and more other things in pouchling friendly size and consistence, but it's a slow process. In the beginning, he only rarely lets them shove mushed fruit or pre-chewed meat in his mouth without immediately spitting it back out again. Once his teeth have made their painful way through his gums and he is able to actually chew his own food, it gets better, much to both of his parent's relief, because little Ytzl is a biter. 

He is also a screamer, especially at night when Yondu wants to sleep. For some reason, the kid has decided that the sunset is his divine command to be wide awake and screach his little throat raw. It often takes hours to quiet him down, and sometimes Yondu gets so desperate that he takes the babe, climbs down to the ground, marches to the other side of the village (the little one still wailing loudly), climbs up Jaku's tree, and crawls into her hut. By the time Yondu reaches her, she is awake, sending hateful glares at him when he pushes Ytzl at her with the words, "Do something!"  
This phase takes aproximately two months. The whole village is happy when it's over.

~

The other pouchlings are older and bigger than him, since they were born about five months earlier. What he lacks in size, though, he makes up for in enthusiasm and energy. By the time little Ytzl is a year old, he is a pro at rolling around in the dirt with his companions. Yondu spends many an evening (when his duties let him) in the light of the setting suns with Jaku and other parents, watching over their offsprings. Those that are village sitters often busy themselves with their handiwork. Weaving, basket-work, wooden dishes, earthenware. Yondu, though he may be one of them now and has gotten into a routine with his tasks, does not have the patience or the talent for those tasks. The only things his hands are made to craft are bows and arrows. 

The hunters among the parents often tell stories of the last hunt, always grossly exaggerated (Yondu should know, he was infamous for his wild, insane tales from the swamps). 

One time, Ytzl bites Toll's brat, a snotty little thing, in the tahlei so hard he draws blood, and the girl is screeching and crying for hours. Kisho makes a comment about how the future chiefs seem to determine their mates, and tweaks Jaku's tahlei where Yondu once, over eleven years ago, had bitten her out of spite. They tell him to fuck off, and Yondu claims that Toll's girl would only have a chance with Ytzl if she came after her mother rather than her father, face wise. Toll is offended. They have a friendly sparring match to dick it out.  
Yondu comes out with an aching jaw, bruised ribs, and split knuckles, but he's grinning wildly through a mouth full blood as he holds Toll down in the dirt until the idiot yields. 

“You look like a deranged demon,” Toll laughs, after Yondu pulls him up, still feeling the fights euphoria in every muscle. 

“And you just got a little uglier,” Yondu answers, and pokes his broken nose. There is much cursing. 

He has learned from the hand-to-hand session he lost against Jaku, and used the eleven years since to improve. Even though he is a village sitter now, he sure as hell doesn't let himself get soft. The display must have impressed Jaku suitably, too, because she makes an excuse about having to speak to Yondu about some future-chieftain-thing, and pulls him up into her hut to ride him into oblivion.  
Thankfully, this time around there are no unplanned pregnancies, because nobody would have believed the same excuse twice. 

~

A month before the rain season, the pack traditionally goes on a big hunt. They won't return home until a week before the relentless downpours start.  
It's a tense time in the village, because those big hunts, deep in the forest and further up the mountains, nearly always claim lifes. On the second one Yondu had accompanied - he was only 15 back then - one group had stumbled over a yollop nest. That year, the pack had returned to the village with 13 people less than they had started out with. It had been a hard few months, afterwards. 

Of course, Jaku is going, which leaves both Yondu and Ytzl in a bad mood. Not that Yondu worries, or misses her, or something. He is just displeased at having a moody toddler around non-stop, who proclaims his displeasure over his mother's long absence often, and very loudly. 

After three tense weeks, the return of the hunters is a big relief, especially when the first wave comes before the chief and the elders (and Yondu) to tell them the kills were plentiful, and they lost only one man.  
It is celebrated with a feast, and for once Yondu gets away from the old-people-feeding-duty under the pretense of finding Jaku and finally letting his son spend some time with his mother again. The little one certainly makes big enough eyes and asks, “Momma?” in a hopeful tone often enough to melt the hearts of all the elders, who then wave Yondu off. 

Jaku isn't there yet. Ytzl makes a disappointed cheep, looking over the people milling around from his perch on Yondu's arm, and Yondu is a little disgruntled, too. Not for himself, of course. He just doesn't like seeing the little one sad. 

Did she not come back alright? Had she been in need of a healer and couldn't be at the feast? Did she have to wait for stragglers, outside of the village's palisade?  
After observing the masses around the fire once more, Yondu makes his way over to a gaggle of young huntresses who have been casting furtive glances to him for a while now. They are between 14 and 17 years old, the youngest in the pack. Most of them had just participated in a big hunt for the first time. They were looking exhausted, but happy. 

Since he was never much one for training the younglings, and hasn't been with the hunters in one and a half years, he doesn't know them all that well. That doesn't stop him from sitting his ass down in their midst, Ytzl in one hand, food in the other, and gives the round of girls his most charming smile. 

“May I, ladies?” 

They accept his presence eagerly, making space for him, but not _too_ much so he sits at the center of a cozy circle. They coo over Ytzl, who sits on Yondu's lap and buries his face in his daddy's chest, still grumpy that his momma isn't around. 

“You girls know where Jaku got stuck? I'd really like to hand the little guy here over to her,” he asks them casually. 

“She went to oversee the storage of the meat and pelts, I think. Pharaqa delegated. Do you want us to look after him so you can eat?” one of them asks, fluttering her lashes prettily. 

Reassured, Yondu shakes his head.  
“Nah, I'ma feed him first,” he says, and listens with half an ear when the girls alternate between crooning over Ytzl and bragging about their success on the hunt. For some of the girls, especially the one on his right who scoots steadily closer, the upcoming rain season will be their first as adults. Yondu rolls his eyes, and tries to get some food into his obstinate little brat. Ytzl's in a real sulk now, his little face screwed up and angry. It's not really a war face yet, but he has all the time in the world. 

“You'll eat, boy,” Yondu grumbles at him, but Ytzl only shakes his head wildly and clamps shut. An idea makes a wicked grin split Yondu's face. 

“You eat that, boy, or I'll eat you!” he says, and blows a raspberry on Ytzl's soft little tummy. The boy starts giggling and squealing immediately, making all the young huntresses around him coo once more. 

“He really is a cute one!” one of them declares, and Yondu sends her a dazzling grin. 

“I know, right? He got that from me.” 

There's more giggling, and more eyelashes are fluttered in his direction. That all stops very abruptly, though, when the girl scooting closer and closer to Yondu's side gets a kick in the thigh and Jaku, armed with one of her most impressive glares, barks, “Move it!” 

They all move a pace away, not just the cozy one, and Yondu directs a shit eating grin up at Jaku. 

Then Ytzl sees her, chirps, “Momma? MOMMA!” and launches himself at her. Had Yondu not grabbed Jaku's plate, it would have sailed off in her haste to get a grip on her son. There is happy high pitched trilling from both of them, and an itch in Yondu's tahlei settles. 

“You got a shiner,” he says brightly as Jaku plops down next to him. She sends him a dark look, and wrenches her plate out of his hand. After only a few bites, Ytzl begins whining for food, so she alternates between handing something to him and shoving it in her own mouth. Once the little one is full, he curls up against her chest and falls asleep, happy and save. 

“Guess he missed ya,” Yondu says, and maybe means more by that. 

“Guess I missed him too,” answers Jaku, and perhaps means more by it, too. 

They sit for a while, eating in peace now that the girls have pissed off to somewhere else, and tell each other about what happened in the last few weeks. The black eye came apparently from a falling branch that hit her in the face. Yondu makes sure to laugh at her appropriately long. 

Then, after watching the people around them for a bit, Jaku asks in a fake casual tone, “You gonna participate in rain season this year?” 

“No!” Yondu snorts. “What do I want with a second one while the first is still pooping himself.”  
Ytzl is still oblivious to the world, and drooling on his ma. 

Then a thought hits Yondu, and he looks at his companion sharply.  
“Why, you want another?” 

Jaku is smiling, her one eye swollen and making her look like she squints.  
“Anthos above, no. My time is fully engaged with what I have. Just imagine if I had to deal with three brats,” she says with feeling. 

“Three?” is Yondu's puzzled reply, and her smile turns devious. 

“Yeah. Ytzl, the hypothetical second kid, and you.”

“I'm not a brat!” 

“Oh, you're the biggest brat of them all!” 

~

Things are good for a while, until the swamp fever comes. 

Two thirds of the village fall ill. Nine of the adults succumb, as well as half of the pouchlings of the last two seasons. 

Yondu feels like crap, sweaty and light headed, and can barely breath in through the burning, clawing cough that makes him hack up half a lung. The cold sits so deep in his bones that no amount of furs can warm him.  
That is all secondary, though, because Ytzl is shivering so badly that his teeth are chattering. 

Yondu feels helpless and angry and frustrated, but that's nothing against the ice cold fear from last night, before the little one's fever finally broke.  
He doesn't want to imagine how Jaku feels, out on guard duty for nearly 20 hours now because so many of the hunters are sick, not knowing if her son is still alive or not.  
Duty comes first. Without sentries on watch, they could fall victim to a surprise attack. Pharaqa is making rounds, encouraging the guards and visiting her sick hunters, even though she has a rattling cough and a fever herself. Uzuko hasn't caught the illness this year, but is busy with preparing the dead and comforting the living. He hasn't slept in the last two day either. 

Every few hours, a young and frazzled looking village sitter pokes his head into the hut Yondu shares with a few other sick parents and their pouchlings to make sure nobody bit the dust. Old Riin, who is both a midwife and a healer, always shoos him away with the admonishment to not be so Anthos-damned negative. 

Yondu hasn't slept since Ytzl started whining about the cold, and when Riin finally tells him that the brat is over the mend and just needs to rest and to drink, he forces a cup of water into the boy and then lets himself drift off to sleep, a warm, sweaty bundle in his arms. 

 

“Daddy.” 

The word permeates the thick fog in his brain.  
“Hm?” 

“Daaaaaddy!”

Yondu's eyes fly open at that pitiful little voice, an instinct kicking in that's ingrained in his very soul, only to stare into a little face that is so close to his that Ytzl is going cross eyed looking at him. 

“Whassit?” he whispers, aware of the other people in various degrees of dying around them, and still woozy. 

With a proud grin, Ytzl leans back and chirps, “Mommy, look!” 

Yondu looks up, and sees Jaku in the dim light filtering through the crack in the drapes. She is kneeling next to him with wide, fearful eyes. When he blinks at her, she sags in relief.  
“What?” he asks confused. 

“Holy shit, I thought you were dead,” she breathes, and on the other side of the hut Riin snorts. 

“I would have noticed one of my charges croakin' it, girly! They gonna be fine.”

~

The village is in mourning for the dead, but life does what it always does, and goes on. 

Half a year after the swamp fever passes Ytzl turns three, another big hunt brings the village meat, another rain season is celebrated, and the next generation is born. 

Yondu still gets into screaming matches with his mother, as is par for the course, and disagrees with his father's old fashioned opinions, but both of them are secretly proud of how their son has grown in the last few years. Uzuko even says, after the consumption of some teku root, that Yondu might make a good chief, still. 

~

A little over a month before Ytzl turns four the Ignokai, an enemy tribe, attack. 

They don't have Yaka, though, which gives them a serious disadvantage, but they also come in greater numbers. 

Yondu fights at Jaku's side, sending his arrows against the attackers. His aim is as true as ever, his whistle sharp and deadly.  
After the hunters beat the Ignokai off, Pharaqa announces the pack will hunt down the stragglers. None of them should return to their village down in the plains, a warning of what would happen if they were to attack in the future.  
So the hunters set out, Jaku and Pharaqa in the lead, and the Zatoans wait with baited breath for their return. 

They return three days later in the evening after the meal, banged up, but victorious. No casualties on their side. Pharaqa makes her smug report to the chief and the elders, and Yondu at his father's side. Jaku was sent to the healers for a nasty gash on her arm, but Riin is happy to inform them that she, as well as the other injured hunters, will make a full recovery. 

Later, when the sun sets and Ytzl is still out playing with Toll's brat under her mother's supervision, Jaku makes her way into Yondu's hut. 

“I heard you didn't screw up too badly,” he says with a grin, and Jaku settles on his lap with a snort. 

“I did brilliantly, you ass! I cut through their warriors like Anthos was guiding my hand. They had no chance against our hunters!” she brags, leaning in close. Yondu lets his fingers wander up her thighs. 

“Oh yeah? That's pretty hot, you know. You should tell me all about it.” 

With a laugh she grabs Yondu's hand, the one massaging her hip, and brings it up to her lips. After giving his knuckles a nip, she whispers, “Not now. But if you asked me in the next rain season, my answer would maybe not be no. If you don't piss me off too much.” 

With a grin, Yondu latches onto her neck for a moment, nibbling beneath her ear. 

“In three months, then,” he murmurs against her pulse, and grins when goose bumps appear. 

Then Ytzl is clambering up the tree, sounding like a herd of yollops, and Jaku climbs off his lap just in time for their son to rush into the hut and fling himself at his mother.  
In one breath, he tells them about how he beat Kisho's kid in a fist fight, and how Toll's brat dared him to eat a mud frog, and shows them the colorful pearl he won by eating a damned mud frog, and asks Jaku how the hunt went. Jaku indulges him, and Yondu, by telling a very animated and grossly exaggerated tale of how she and her pack brought down the Ignokai warriors.  
Yondu keeps that opinion to himself though, and basks in the glow of his little family, wondering if he can handle a second little blighter and coming out with a solid _maybe_. His life, he muses, is pretty cool right now. 

~

Sadly, next rain season never comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duuun Duuuuuun Duuuuuuuuuun.  
> Fluff is over, y'all!
> 
> I may take a bit of a break to get the next bunch of chapters ready


	8. Only a fool would wish the night away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end comes quietly.

The beginning of the end comes quietly. 

At first, there are lights in the night sky that weren't there before. Yondu notices, because he spends a lot of time watching it, telling Ytzl about the constellations, about how Anthos supposedly hung them to brighten the darkness and help the hunters find their way home. 

They aren't stationary, though, but move in slow, irregular lines over the firmament. Uzuko calls them shooting stars, but Yondu knows that shooting stars don't move in fucking patterns. If he concentrates on one long enough, he can feel their presence in his tahlei. It's not like anything he has encountered before. Certainly not Centaurian, and vastly different from plant life. It doesn't sing like the yaka, or hum like the animals, predator and prey alike. Not even like the deep thrum of a newly woken yollop that reverberates through the tahlei like the beat of the ceremonial drum in one's chest.  
It's like a dissonant, far off treble, and it digs itself into his spine until he can't look anymore.  
A life force is up there, and it's one that has never sat foot on Anthos' ground before. 

Uzuko doesn't believe him. The bad feeling won't leave, though, so Yondu enlists Jaku's help, who goes to Pharaqa, who is pissed and mulish, but in the end talks to Uzuko on their behalf.  
That is the reason all four of them stand on Uzuko's hut one night, yelling at each other and wildly gesticulating at the sky.  
Fortunately, most villagers are asleep. The sentries have the grace to think, "The hell," and mind their own business. 

“You have been teaching me for ages how to listen to the world around me and how to see Anthos' signs when He sends them. I tell you, if you'd just pull your head out of your ass for one damned minute, you would notice something is _wrong_!” Yondu snarls into his father's face. 

“I think we have established that your interpretation of Anthos' will is not always the clearest or most accurate,” Uzuko answers heatedly, and Yondu wants to scream. 

“Don't make this about Ytzl again, old man!” he growls, but before either of them can say more, Pharaqa snaps, “Quddit, the both of you! This is no way to act for the chief and his successor, especially in the middle of the village. You're gonna wake people up.” 

They still glower, but they do so quietly. It's a silent stand off, neither party ready to give ground. Then Jaku plants herself at Yondu's side with a sigh and says, “My chief, I'm just a huntress and do not want to presume to have a deeper understanding of Anthos' ways than you, but what if Yondu isn't completely insane? Would you really take the risk of overlooking some kind of warning by being too stuck up to simply lift your head?” 

When both Yondu and Uzuko turn their dumbfounded gazes on her, she bows smartly and leaves without another word. 

“Shit, I like that girl. Yondu, don't you ever lose her favor,” Pharaqa says, before following Jaku down. 

They let the women walk out of sight before they turn back to each other. Both still wear unhappy expressions. 

“Your friend has a mouth on her,” Uzuko grumbles finally. 

“Well, she sure as hell ain't no little wimp. And she's right. You have to listen to me!” Yondu says with a glower. 

“I have to?” The raised eyebrow conveys his father's displeasure with being ordered around, but Yondu is having none of it. 

“Yes, you have to!” he snaps. “I've been your pupil for four and a half years, I've been working my ass off to learn and to be a good dad and to please your old, pretentious ass! Even if you really believe you don't owe me the benefit of the doubt for five fucking minutes, then you still have the duty to protect your tribe in case there really _is_ something brewing. Anthos ain't gonna strike ya down if you listen to other people for once!” 

Uzuko looks taken aback by his son's outburst, but Yondu doesn't care. He is fed up with a lot of things, and the lights in the sky make him twitchy. 

Then the chief says, “I agree,” and Yondu can only gawp. 

“What?”

“You have learned much in the last few years, more than I ever thought would fit in your hard head. I would insult both of us and set a bad example for the rest of the village if I didn't at least verify your claims. Go get some teku root.” 

Uzuko takes a seat, right there on the roof with his legs crossed and an expectant expression on his face. Yondu takes a deep breath to get his heart back under control, still hyped for a fight, and climbs down into the chieftain's hut to find something to smoke. 

When he heaves himself back up, the root is already burning. He drags in a lung full and holds the joint out to his father before mirroring his position. After it burns out and is running through their veins, he guides Uzuko through the meditation to aim his focus at the new stars, showing him how he feels them. It's weird, because usually it's the other way around with Uzuko trying to lead Yondu onto the way to some kind of insight. 

He reaches up, up, up, and then he lets himself fall. 

_Metal, hollow and dead. No spark of life, no whisper of a song._  
_Furious energy, powerful and all consuming. It drives its claws into everything that lives and either devours it whole or changes it on its most basic level until the body breaks. It is caged in metal and light, though, tamed and ready to be exploited._  
_Hearts, beating in a strange rhythm and completely out of sync with the world they hover above. A droning cacophony of countless war drums._  
_Minds, untouched and utterly foreign.  
Coldness and vastness and apathy. It's all consuming._

Uzuko wrenches himself out of the meditation when the noise drowns out his own inner voice. His eyes need a moment to focus on his surroundings, the sleeping village, the embers of the fire, his wide eyed son. 

“What was that?” comes Yondu's breathless question. “It was never that loud before. What the fuck?!” 

“I don't know,” Uzuko whispers, shocked to his core but trying to not let it show. By the look on Yondu's face, he is not very successful, so he tries again.  
“I do not know, but I am sure Anthos does.”

With a lot of self control, he makes himself sound sure. 

“He does not send signs we cannot see, and He does not give warnings we cannot heed. Go and tell your mother to send some of the hunters into the forest. They shall report anything out of the ordinary. The sentries in the village are to be exceptionally vigilant!” 

Yondu nods, already on his feet before Uzuko has even finished speaking. 

“Yondu!” 

He halts in his tracks to throw a questioning look at his father, ready to jump off the roof. 

“Someone is to watch the sky at all times,” Uzuko adds, and then Yondu is gone. 

He looks up at the stars once more, and dips into the energies around him again. 

~

When the sun rises Yondu sits at the entrance of his hut, tired and restless at the same time. Ytzl lays in the nest, deep breaths belying the tossing and turning he did until a short while ago. He has had a fretful sleep with the whole commotion in the village, and his father running around in the middle of it. 

Both Jaku and Pharaqa had still been awake, waiting in Pharaqa's hut for Uzuko's verdict. They had made grim faces at Yondu's news. His mother had muttered, “I wish you was crazy, boy,” before they strut off to follow their orders. Jaku was leading the hunters into the woods, while Pharaqa would organize the sentry rotation in the village. 

On the roof of a hut in one of the highest trees Yondu can make out silhouettes, craning their heads up and staring at the slowly fading stars, old and new ones alike. 

There is a rustle behind him, and when he turns Ytzl is rolling over in the nest, his eyes two glowing ovals in the dimness of dawn. 

“Dad?” he asks with a sleep drunk voice. 

“'S early still, you can snore a little longer if you wanna,” Yondu tells him, but he still struggles out of the pelts and pads over to his father's side. A few weeks ago he's had a growth spurt and is now nearly as tall as the kids more than half a year older than him. Generally speaking he's still small, though, with baby fat on him and a tahlei that's barely a hand broad. Yondu gives it a tweak when Ytzl climbs on his lap and buries his face in his shoulder. 

"Where is momma?" he mumbles. 

"In the forest," Yondu answers quietly. It's easier to leave it at that. 

In the span of seconds, Ytzl is back asleep anyway. Yondu wraps his arms around him and watches the village wake up. 

~

It's another two days (and one cloudy night) before the hunters return from the forest. Uzuko and Yondu are in a meeting with the village elders, speaking of the upcoming rain season, because while everybody is feeling the heavy weariness that has settled over the settlement, life has to go on. 

Jaku barges in. 

She bows before them, out of breath and looking exhausted.  
“Chief, elders. Please forgive my intrusion, but we have found something in the jungle.” 

“What is it?” Uzuko asks, his calm and collected demeanor not letting on how uneasy he is. 

“Ignokai,” she answers, and a murmur goes through the elders. 

Riin asks, “Are they planning to raid us again?”, but Jaku shakes her head. 

“No,” she says. “They are in search of help. Their village was attacked.” 

“Can we be sure that isn't a trap?” old Varo wants to know, but Uzuko speaks over him. 

“By whom?” 

Jaku's gaze skips over to Yondu for a second before settling on the chief again. 

“They said stars fell from the sky three nights ago.” 

A cold silence hangs in the air, the elders exchanging looks with each other and the chief. 

“What have you done with the Ignokai?” Yondu wants to know. 

“I ordered some of my hunters to bring them here, there are only 15 of them and you can question them better. The rest of my sentries are still in the forest.” 

Uzuko nods and tells her to bring the Ignokai's leader in. Jaku bows and leaves, and only a few minutes pass before she, Pharaqa, and two hunters lead an older woman in.  
Her tattoos and the silver piercings in her nose mark her as a member of the tribe from the swamps further down the mountain. She has some nasty scratches on her arms and legs, and if the dark bags under her eyes are any indication, she hasn't slept much during the three day trip up here. Her eyes are glassy and fearful. 

She only hesitates for a moment before bowing, and says with a scratchy voice, “Chief of the Zatoan, I am grateful you received us.” 

“You are no guests here. What is your name, and why did you come to our land?” Uzuko intones gravely. Pharaqa goes to his side and stands at attention, a knife in her hands. 

“I am Anama, and I guided the rest of my people somewhere they might be save.” 

“You think Ignokai are save in my village?” the chief says coolly, raising an eyebrow. 

“You have better weapons than us, and your hunters are infamous for their skills. Both are needed against the demons that attacked us,” she answers quietly. 

“What... demons are you speaking of?” one of the elders asks skeptically, but Anama's gaze never wavers from Uzuko. 

“They came from the sky three nights ago. At first we thought they were falling stars, because they were so bright. When they came close, though, we saw they were big chunks of metal. Dead and black, unlike the yaka you wield, but flying nonetheless.”

She shakes her head a moment, and closes her eyes. 

“They hovered above our huts with bright glowing eyes sweeping over the ground. Then their sides opened up like big, toothless maws, and the demons jumped out. Crest-less men, taller than any Centaurian, and covering their bodies with more dull metal. They spoke in harsh sounds coming from deep in their chests, and when we didn't understand, they pointed the things they carried at us. They - they looked like gnarled, decaying metal limbs, and the crest-less held them in their arms. Some spit lightning at my people, and they fell twitching and seizing before losing their consciousness. Some spit green fire. The ones that got hit by the fire, oh Anthos, they either died on the spot, or they screamed. They screamed so ghastly, and writhed on the ground. Anthos help me, I can still hear their screams.” 

The woman sobs, hugging herself tightly. Her nails dig into the skin of her arms, and she's shaking all over. When she opens her eyes again, tears spill out. 

“You have to help us, please. Please!” 

She looks around at the elders, at Uzuko, at her guards. The tears are still streaming down her cheeks. Her plea seems to echo in the oppressing stillness that is the chieftain's hut. Finally, Varo clears his throat and says, “How can we be sure that this is not some scheme? The Ignokai have attacked us many times before, and failed often. Maybe it is just a trick to fool us, and then stab us in the back once we let our guard down!” 

“It's not!”, Anama shrieks. “You have to believe me! I swear on my life – on Anthos' name! I speak the truth! Please don't cast us out, they are the last of my people!” 

Her eyes are manic. When she takes a step closer to Uzuko, the hunters at her side close in on her, and Pharaqa stands before her chief with the knife raised. Anama stops, and falls to her knees, wringing her hands. The desperation never leaves her features. The elders exchange bewildered glances, since no Ignokai had ever freely kneeled before a Zatoan. 

In the tense moment Yondu decides to speak for the first time. 

“How did you get away?” he asks. “If those demons were spitting lightning and fire, how did your group get out? And how do you know the rest is dead?” 

Her eyes flick over to him, and her voice quivers and cracks when she answers.  
“There were 30 of the demons, and when they attacked our warriors tried to defend us. Not that our spears did much against their metal plates. In the panic some ran. The village sitters, the young and the old. Especially the ones living at the outskirts of the village had enough time to flee into the forest. One of the stars followed us, but between the high trees it couldn't fly so easily, and the demons were busy in the village, so my group was able to get away.” 

“And what of the people you left behind?” Uzuko wanted to know. 

“The next morning we sent one of us down to the village, and when he returned he was weeping. He said they burned the houses, and killed the youngest children and the old people, and threw them on a heap. The survivors were in cages, and the flying metal chunks lifted them up into their maws, and then flew off. They are all gone.” 

Uzuko studies her for a moment or two, looking down at her as she pleads again. She is a wreck, and her voice is so raw she can barely speak, but she never quits begging. So Uzuko gestures for Yondu to get her a blanket to sit on, and says, “Take a seat and compose yourself. You shall tell us all you know about those demons.”

The meeting goes on deep into the night.


	9. One hundred steps off the end of the road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Daddy, I'm scared”. The small whisper comes from his side where Ytzl does his best to keep up, his little fists clenching around his fathers hand. Yondu is scared, too, but he musters up his broadest grin and says “S'okay. You got me, don'tcha? Anything that hurts ya is gonna have to get through me first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The summary is a quote from Write_like_an_American's comic that inspired this whole thing. Suffer with me.

After questioning Anama, they call in the young man who supposedly returned to the Ignokai settlement to see the destruction. He confirms the woman's story.  
The stars have moved again, some even missing from the night sky all together, and it's the final straw.  
Plans are made. 

The village is the only open space for miles, and therefore the most dangerous place to be if the demons should decide to pay the Zatoans a visit like they did the Ignokai.  
They decide to separate the people into three groups. Smaller bodies of people should be harder to track down than one large, slow trail.  
The village sitters get divided into two groups, who will transport as much of their food reserves as possible, and one with parents and their small children. Every group will be accompanied by hunters to guard them against the creatures of the forest, as well as elders to keep the people calm on their way higher up the mountain. Uzuko will go with one band of village sitters, Pharaqa naming herself the chief's protector. Yondu, both as a father of a young child and as a strong fighter who knows the way, leads the parents. Jaku is guarding the remaining village sitters.  
There are some caves they want to reach, only a two days track away. They go deep into the side of the mountain and have underground rivers, so they can theoretically spend weeks in there without leaving.  
Each group will use a different route. 

They leave at the crack of dawn. Jaku hugs Ytzl tightly, leans her forehead against his and murmurs something meant only for her son's ears. Then she claps Yondu on the shoulder with a muttered, “Take care.” Yondu nods and says, “Same.” 

They both lead their groups out into the jungle. 

The whole procession is a quiet affair at first. The youngest of the children are tired, some still sleeping in their parent's arms, some cranky. Many can feel their parents unease, and are scared and unhappy because of it. Ytzl, hanging onto Yondu's hand with a grip that belies his height and stature, is a prime example. 

~

By midday, they hear strange sounds that are not normally found in this part of the forest. It starts as a low rumble, like the roar of the waterfalls further north west when you're still a good distance away. Yondu hasn't been a hunter for four and a half years now, and he checks his surroundings several times to make sure they aren't going in the wrong direction, but the hunters that are with him know the way better than him, and are just as confused by the sound. 

He orders to pick up the pace, and keep on track. 

The dull rushing sometimes disappears, but is never gone for long. It makes the people more and more anxious. Gazes often turn up to the sky, or what little of it can be seen through the thick canopy of the giant trees they walk beneath. 

Yondu is concentrated on his path, when he suddenly hears, “Daddy, I'm scared”. The small whisper comes from his side where Ytzl does his best to keep up, his little fists clenching around his fathers hand. Yondu is scared, too, but he musters up his broadest grin and says “S'okay. You got me, don'tcha? Anything that hurts ya is gonna have to get through me first.”  
The little one is reassured by those words, having the ultimate trust of a small child in their father's capability to protect them. Yondu's chest feels tight.

~

They are maybe half way through the afternoon when the low rumble grows louder and louder, as if to punish him for his words. 

Yondu yells, “Take cover!” just as the rumble becomes a roar. 

Splinters burst in all directions, the shrieking of ripping wood is nearly deafening, and the ground beneath them seems to do a jump, throwing the Centaurians off their feet.  
Instinct kicks in, and Yondu pulls Ytzl beneath himself to shield him from the falling branches and splinters, and the dirt getting catapulted everywhere. There are screams and a roar so loud it reveberates in his chest, and the world is just a vortex of noise, and light, and flying debris. 

Once Yondu can actually hear his own voice again, he looks Ytzl over, rolled together beneath him, and asks frantically, “You alright? You hurt?” His hands shake when he pats Ytzl down, checking for injuries.  
The boy doesn't answer, wound tight and clutching at his father. His eyes are wide open and full of fear, but he isn't hurt. 

Then, and only then does Yondu get to his feet and take a look around. Others of the group do the same, mostly in shocked silence. 

The tops of some trees are burning. Leaves are raining down on them. The forest floor about two dozen meters behind the group looks like it has exploded, showering everything in a fifty meter radius with dirt. A deep crater is where a tree had formerly stood, and few more of the tall trunks are broken in two, still hanging crookedly in their brothers branches, but exposing a big stretch of blue sky.  
In the middle of the chaos, though, is the one thing that draws the eyes of all the Centaurians to itself.  
A monstrosity of black metal, formed of gigantic cuboids stacked into each other, completely devoid of wings, but hovering in the air nonetheless.  
Considering the fire, it may have blasted one tree away, and had broken through the rest. 

“A star,” someone screams, and “How did it find us?” comes Kisho's voice. Before Yondu finds his, let alone come up with an explanation, a seam appears in the black chunk's side. The Centaurians stare in horror as it widens, further and further, and becomes a maw, toothless, but not empty by a long shot. Yondu only catches a glimpse of the creatures on the inside, slips of blue covered in thick metal and carrying metal limbs. Demons. 

Yondu yells, “Everybody take cover!”

It brakes the spell his people are under, and they follow orders.  
Everybody scrambles away, children in their arms or on their hands, and scatter deeper into the woods to get away from the star.

“Toll,” Yondu calls, shrugging his bow from his shoulder and handing Ytzl over to Finu, the mother of Toll's brat. 

“What the fuck,” his friend breathes. “What the fuck are those, Yondu?” 

“I don't know, but I say we shoot'em. See what they're made of,” Yondu growls, and draws his bow. Toll nods, doing the same, and the other hunters follow their example, while the families put more distance between themselves and the star. 

The demons have jumped to the torn up ground by now. There are about thirty of them standing in a loose cluster. They are watching the trees where the Zatoans just disappeared. Their skin is blue, but a shade darker than the Centaurian's. They don't have tahleis, but unlike a crestless whose tahlei was cut off as punishment for a capital crime, their bold skulls are smooth and unmarred, as if there never had been one to begin with. 

“Fire!” Yondu bellows, and a swarm of arrows gets send off with a multitude of whistles.  
The demons actually flinch back, and a tiny spark of hope blooms at that.  
It immediately withers away again when nearly all the arrows simply bounce off of the body armor without leaving a dent.  
One goes through an eye, though, and another through the neck.  
The first demon roars in pain, dropping his weapon and clutching the arrow protruding from his eye socket. The other drops with a gurgling sound. 

The hunters are stunned for a second too long, and before they can even reach for another arrow, bolts of lightning hit the tree trunks around them. The crackling blasts fill the air with ozone, and a prickling feeling runs all over their skin.  
The demons are shooting blind, because Yondu's people are hidden in the thick foliage, but they rain down lightning like a hundred summer storms. It's only a matter of time before one of the bolts connects with a hunter, engulfing his entire body in sizzling light. The man's scream is cut short, and he falls.  
There is no chance for them to duck out of their cover to take another shot, so Yondu commands, “Fall back, get our people and RUN!”  
The hunters retreat. Toll hoists their unconscious brother onto his shoulder after checking his pulse, and then they're off.  
There is a guttural bellow from behind, deep and ugly, but Yondu doesn't turn around. He doesn't have to look back to know that the demons are following. 

The hunt has begun. 

It only takes a few minutes of mad dashing to get to where the families had moved to, scared and in shock. As soon as Ytzl spots his father among the approaching hunters, he wrenches himself loose from Finu's hand and flings himself into Yondu's arms. 

“We need to keep movin',” he grunts, hoisting Ytzl up and rearranging him so he won't drop him three steps later. 

“Toll, take a couple hunters up front to make sure we ain't running into a yollop nest. The rest of the fighters stay in the back to keep the demons at bay.”

“Where are we headed? We can't lead them to the caves.”

“So we go further west 'til we reach the creek. If we can't shake them, we could have a chance in the shallow water. Go downstream, away from the other groups.”

Toll nods, handing his still unconscious cargo over to someone else, and exchanges some meaningful glances with Finu over their sniffling brat's head before making his way to the tip of their panicked procession. 

They can hear the deep growls in the distance, so Yondu yells, “Hurry the fuck up, people!”, and sets a fast pace. 

~

The vegetation is abundant. The Centaurians are born and raised in this jungle, they have climbing and sneaking and running in their blood. The tahlei lets them feel their path as much as see it. The demons, on the other hand, are foreign. They have never come here before, or surely Yondu would have noticed it when he had reached out to them with his crest. They don't have tahleis, either, so they can't find their prey through it. They are clad in heavy metal, which undoubtedly protects them, but should also slow them down.  
By all rights, they should have tired in no time at all, they should have fallen back, they should have gotten lost.

They are closing in. 

Yondu doesn't understand how or why, but he can hear their approach through the breaking of branches, their grunting, their loud, obnoxious language.  
He keeps spurring his people on, but they consist of children, parents carrying the youngest, and a few elders. They are nowhere near fast enough, and the creek is still over half an hour away. 

He can feel the bone deep fear in his people. The Centaurians are far from the apex hunters in the great forest, but no predator is like what's on their heels now. 

Suddenly, Ytzl screams, “DADDY!” at the top of his lungs, and Yondu flings himself to the ground just as a lightning bold crackles overhead. The tips of his tahlei tingle painfully.  
He is on his feet again and in the next underbrush before the another volley of blue light can rain down on him, but one of the huntresses at his side isn't so lucky.  
There is no time to pull her to safety, so he doesn't. 

Their escape dissolves into a mad, panicked dash, with a few hunters falling back from time to time to send arrows flying. It doesn't stay their pursuers long, and more and more lightning bolts break through the leafs.  
Again, Yondu doesn't know how they shoot so precisely without seeing them, because he sure as hell can't see _them_ when he throws swift glances over his shoulders. 

Finu runs next to Yondu with her daughter in her arms. Without a warning, she is engulfed by bright blue tendrils of light before she falls to the ground with a shriek. She stays down, motionless, just like her kid, and Ytzl wails at his friend's demise.  
Yondu's back is broader than hers, and even if he could run faster and duck under every attack, he would have to leave the others behind. 

This isn't working. 

He jumps behind a tree trunk, puts Ytzl down and hisses, “Run! Run, and don't look back. Run west until you reach a creek, then follow it upstream. Thas' where granma's gonna be, alright?” 

Ytzl's uncomprehending eyes are so wide open, they might pop out. Yondu shakes him desperately. 

“Do you understand?!” 

Still no answer. 

“Ytzl, GO!” 

He turns him around and pushes him, pushes him away insistently, gets the little legs moving. The boy listens for exactly as long as it takes to clamber over a giant root before turning around. 

“What did I _just_ say?!” Yondu barks, anger masking his terror, and finally Ytzl's head disappears behind the root. Yondu pulls his bow from his shoulder and fishes an arrow out of his quiver, gesturing the rearguard to him that are still standing. Finu lies only three steps behind them. 

“Remember, kids. We aim for the neck,” he growls. 

They square off, draw the bow, and wait. 

~ 

The plant life around them feels like veins, life pulsing rhythmically in a great symphony. The approaching demons are like stones dropped in a pond, disturbing the music, but the ripples tell them where they originate from.  
So when the first demon appears, it ends up with an arrow in its throat before he can yell out a warning to his companions.  
The next two are a little more vigilant, though, and start firing even before they have made their way out of the underbrush. One lightning bolt hits, before two arrows find their targets. 

Another three appear, barking and firing wildly. Yondu dodges a bolt, only for it to grace one of his hunters. The man goes down with a yell, writhing a little, but not losing consciousness. He is spitting and cursing, and suddenly the last standing demon hovers above him. With a deep, rumbling laugh, it brings its weapon down on him, the heavy thing breaking the hunter's arm that was raised in self defense. With a yowl, the Centaurian flinches back, but it doesn't stop the demon. It brings his weapon up again, and then down. 

Yondu is close, realizes that the last standing demon is currently hitting his last conscious hunter without opening his vulnerable neck for Yondu's last arrow. Something else has to be done. 

The demon beats on his victim, again and again and again, until Yondu jumps on its back with a holler, his legs wrapping around its waist. He pushes his bow beneath its' chin and pulls back, trying to strangle it. The demon drops the hunter out of necessity, and grabs the bow, choking and growling and trying to throw his attachment off. When that doesn't work, and its face turns darker and darker, it changes tactics.  
Yondu realizes what it's planning far too late, lets go of his bow and pushes off, but he still gets half buried under a mountain of metal plates and muscle, as the creature lets itself fall backwards.  
While it's busy gulping in air and wheezing, Yondu wriggles out from under it, his entire left side aching, but surprisingly whole. In his amazement that nothing in him is broken or busted, he fails to crawl out of grabbing distance. A hand fastens around Yondu's ankle, drags him over the ground, and flings him across the clearing. He crashes to the floor with a manly whelp. 

His head rings, the world warbles, and now it's Yondu's turn to drag in a wheezing breath. His landing has pressed all the air from his lungs, and rolling over to struggle back to his feet takes longer than he cares to admit. 

Just as Yondu gets up, panting, he catches the demon's eye. It's grinning at him, holding his bow up over it's ugly, crest-less head, and then brings it down over its knee. There's a sickening crunch, not unlike the sound of breaking bone.  
Yondu sneers at it with burning anger, because destroying a hunter's weapon is the biggest affront imaginable, and pulls his last arrow from the quiver. 

“I don't need no weapon to put that in your jugular, ugly,” he hisses, and throws himself at the demon. 

They grapple, and Yondu mainly dodges the slow, but heavy attacks. The arrow glances off of the armor, and any punches he delivers hurt Yondu more than the creature. 

Finally, he feigns a right hook aimed at its unprotected face, and when the demon brings his arm up to block it, Yondu delivers the arrow to its destination. 

The arrow head pierces the skin, opening it up in a square, ripping its way deeper and deeper through the flesh, slicing an artery in half. The shaft follows, slipping through the torn muscle and sinew until it's buried to the fletching where Yondu still holds the arrow in an iron grip. Black blood splashes over his arm and his front, covering him in a hot war paint. 

The demon looks stunned for a second before its heavy body slumps to the side, exposing Yondu to its companions that just broke through the underbrush behind them. 

_Fuck you_ , Yondu thinks. Then his world explodes in bright blue light, followed by darkness.


	10. These empty eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's laying on the ground, and his everything hurts from when he got tossed around and squashed. His head rests in someone's lap, but it's Finu's face he looks up at, not Jaku's.  
> “Thank Anthos,” she breathes, and helps him sit up.  
> “Not so fast, they got you good. Don't give'em a reason to shoot you down again,” Toll murmurs, and plants a hand on his shoulder.  
> About a third of his group are gathered around them, their faces pale and afraid. Some are still unconscious. They are in a cage. 
> 
> Someone is missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the dreaded pain is here. Please note that some Bad Shit (tm) is gonna happen.

“Yondu.”

Jaku smiles at him, open and happy. The sun sets, and her face is painted in the prettiest of lights. Her eyes shine like rubies, here tahlei glows through the back lighting. 

“Yondu.” 

Ytzl sits in her lap, leaning against her chest with a sleepy smile on his face. He has Jaku's dimples. Nestled in his mother's secure arms he is soaking up the warm rays of sunshine. 

“Yondu!” 

It's probably the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Peaceful and perfect. Of course, it can't last. The sun is suddenly gone, the sky gray and stormy. Ytzl looks scared, and squirms with fearful little chirps. Jaku's smile has transformed into a scowl. 

“Yondu!” she snarls, and delivers a smack to his cheek. 

Yondu thinks _Yep, that's more like it_ , and wakes up. 

He's laying on the ground, and his everything hurts from when he got tossed around and squashed. His head rests in someone's lap, but it's Finu's face he looks up at, not Jaku's. 

“Thank Anthos,” she breathes, and helps him sit up. 

“Not so fast, they got you good. Don't give'em a reason to shoot you down again,” Toll murmurs, and plants a hand on his shoulder.  
About a third of his group are gathered around them, their faces pale and afraid. Some are still unconscious. They are in a cage. 

Someone is missing. 

“Where is Ytzl?” he growls in Toll's face. 

“Ah, fuck, I don't know,” his friend hisses, trying to dislodge Yondu's iron grip from around his wrist. “He wasn't here when I woke up, and he's not with the other kids. I asked, and nobody in here saw him.” 

“Other kids, where are they?” Yondu wants to know, and Finu tips her head to the left with a distraught expression. 

Over Toll's shoulder he can see two more cages filled with his people, the adults. They are on the clearing that was blasted into existence by the star, which is now standing on long, massive legs as thick as some of the trees. In the middle are the children. They are huddled together, the older ones carrying the pouchlings, most of them sniffling. They all look terrified out of their minds. Yondu can't spot Ytzl, but there's Toll's brat, who is doing her very best to keep the moisture in her eyes from spilling over. Tough little shit.  
They are surrounded by demons toting their weapons.  
“When they took the kids away from their parents, we fought, so they hurled lightning at us again. It scared the little ones even more, and we couldn't do them no good,” Finu whispers.  
Yondu wonders if Ytzl actually got away from the demons, and if he made it to Pharaqa and Uzuko. He doesn't let himself contemplate the many dangers the jungle has to offer. 

He counts the demons on the clearing instead. 27 are walking around, or standing guard. One of them sticks out, because he wears gray armor instead of black, and carries no obvious weapon on him. He is standing beneath the big hole in the star's underbelly, mustering something that is out of Yondu's field of view. Then the gray one looks down at his left arm, where he snaps a little hatch of his wrist guard open. Yondu watches how his fingers tap the inside of his armor piece a few times.  
Suddenly something sinks down out of the star's open belly. Another cage, just like the one Yondu sits in right now, big and heavy, gets lowered by a great metal arm.  
The demon taps his wrist guard, the cage descends slower. 

Then a loud screeching sound of metal grating against metal makes everybody flinch. It's the tipping point for some of the kids who start sobbing in earnest, and it makes even the mostly still dazed adult Zatoans jump to their feet in the cages. 

While extending to get the cage to the ground, a part on the inside of the arm caught on something else and the mechanism blocked. Sparks fly, and a piece of its outer casing hangs off, exposing something that looks like a metal beast's entrails. Blue energy crackles inside. 

The demon in gray yells in his ugly language at some of the others, wildly gesticulating at the grabber. They hurry over with a sleigh that is hovering a foot above the ground, flying just like the star. When their sleigh is beneath the grabber, the gray clad demon fondles his wrist piece again, and suddenly the grabber opens its claws. The cage drops the last bit onto the sleigh with a loud, rattling crash.  
He makes it fly over to the children, and then lower to the ground. One last tap makes the cage door spring open. 

Instead of herding the kids in, though, the demons advance on them, growling and barking, making the little ones stumble back until they stand in a line. The gray demon, apparently a leader of some sort, steps in front of them, next to the cage's opening.  
He says something, and one of his underlings pushes the first kid before him. It's Toll's brat. She hisses, her tears turned into snot and dirt, and she looks like she is ready to bite someone's finger off.  
Toll and Finu are immediately at the front of the cage, Yondu directly behind them. Toll yells and curses, threatens the demons should they dare touch his girl, but the gray one ignores him. Another demon marches up and rams the butt of his weapon between the bars of the cage and into Toll's stomach, who flinches back wheezing.  
Meanwhile, Gray nods and says something that sounds like “Skaghroul,” and she gets pushed into the cage. Her daddy unbends with a grimace and gives the bars he is stuck behind another rattle, prompting the demon to aim his weapon and snarl. Before he shoots, though, Yondu pulls his friend away. 

“Nothin' you can do, now shuddup before they knock you out again, or do something worse,” he hisses. Toll shoves him of. 

“You would be goin' mad if it was Ytzl they'd be manhandling around,” he answers, but doesn't throw himself at the bars again. 

“True, but that doesn't make it any smarter.” 

Another two kids get pushed into the cage, both a good bit older than Toll's girl. Then there is a little boy. He is only two and a half seasons old, still more used to crawling and climbing than walking. The demon takes one look at him and says, “Mstuur.”  
An underling grabs the boy's arm and hauls him away from the others, away from the cage. They walk a few steps, with the kid squealing in pain at the rough handling, before he gets dropped in the middle between the cages holding the adults. They leave him there, in the dirt, under the vigilant eyes of some demon guards. 

“The fuck?” some one on Yondu's left mumbles. 

The next in line are two sisters. The seven year old girl holds her one year old sister in her arms, until Gray speaks a longer string of words, and the demons wrench the little one out of her sister's arms. The girl shrieks, “No! No, give her back!” and the pouchling wails, but their guards show no remorse. The older one gets backhanded and shoved into the cage, and the pouchling gets dropped next to the boy from before.  
There is a commotion in the other crate, where the parents of those two girls scream until the demons shoot them with lightning. 

A ball of lead has settled in Yondu's gut. Anama's words, and the descriptions of the young Ignokai warrior go through his head as he watches another few children being separated, the ones older than Ytzl going into the cage, the ones younger getting dumped in the middle of the clearing.  
A quick head count proves that the few elders that had accompanied the group are not here. His suspicions make panic rise in him, and he grabs Toll's wrist again, pulling him close. 

“We need to get outa here,” Yondu whispers. 

“No shit,” comes the reply. 

“No, I mean we need to get outa here before they're done dividing the kids.” 

The bars of the cage are thick, dull metal. They're cold and smooth to the touch, and firmly fixed to the floor and the ceiling. The gaps between floor and hatch are so thin that Yondu can't even wedge a nail in, let alone a whole finger. 

The line of children gets shorter and shorter. 

There is no mechanism to make the door open, nothing that obviously holds it in place, and yet it doesn't move, no matter how much weight Yondu puts against it. 

“Scream,” Yondu says, in a last effort to do _something_. They trow themselves against the bars, bellow and curse and taunt (not that the demons seem to understand them anymore than the other way around) in the hope that one of those crest-less fuckers comes close enough again to wrench his weapon out of his hands. The others catch on, mimicking them, and the demons start roaring in their ugly tongue, forming a line in front of the cages and aiming their weapons. 

But they don't come close enough. 

Instead, they shoot into the crowd. In the blink of an eye the angry yelling turns into frightened screams. Some fall to the floor, twitching and gurgling, everybody gets a painful zap through the metal beneath their feet. 

Then there is no time for more, because the last kids get sorted. 

~

The demons have swapped their weapons out for a different looking kind. They are still formed like gnarled metal stumps, but they are longer and chunkier. The gray demon stands between the pouchlings of the last three seasons and the adults in their cages. He postures, an imperious look on his face. It's a perfectly normal face, too, with a straight nose, a prominent chin, two eyes (although they are purple). It's not ugly, or vastly different from any Centaurian's face, but there is a cold indifference in those eyes, mixed with irritation, that makes Yondu's heart constrict. 

Gray holds a small box in the palm of his hand, and then he speaks in his stupid guttural language. What the Zatoan don't expect is for the little box to start chirping, tinny and utterly fake, but in an understandable Centaurian dialect nonetheless. 

“Savages of the forest, behold your new masters, the glorious Kree empire!” 

“What in Anthos name-” Finu stutters, voicing what everyone thinks. 

“You will be elevated from your mindless existence to serve us in our holy war to cleanse the galaxy of the filthy and unworthy. For you to be of use to us, we first have to free you of your primitive bonds. Those who are not capable of working for their masters have no place in our Empire.” 

The other demons form a circle around the pouchlings. 

“Let go of your weakness!” Gray commands, and his warriors lift their weapons. 

Screams wash over the clearing like a tidal wave, drowning out the sounds of fire arms discharging balls of green flame that eat their way through the pouchlings. 

The demons keep shooting for a few minutes straight, and when they finally lower their weapons, not a single one of the children is moving anymore. The shrieking of their parents does not ebb down, though. 

~

The stink of death is heavy in the air, and Pharaqa's heart sinks further. She already feared the worst when one of her scouts had found Ytzl stumbling up the creek with a tear streaked face and scratches all over his body. She and Uzuko had listened to their sobbing grandson's story of how the star fell through the trees, and how they had all ran away while lightning shot through the air, and how Yondu had made him go alone and stayed back. 

She had sent out a messenger to the other group of village sitters to inform them of the happenings, and to order Jaku to lead her people to the meeting point safely. The remaining hunters needed a leader, should she be lost. 

Then Pharaqa and most of her hunters had set out to find their missing people. She had implored Uzuko and the elders to go up to the caves in the meantime, so at least half of the Zatoan leaders would be save. The chief had seen her point, especially with a sniffling Ytzl in his arms, but he hadn't been happy. 

They followed Ytzl's directions, taking the planned route of the other group into account, and walked their path backwards. It didn't take all that long before they found the disturbed underbrush where the fight must have happened. Broken plants, patches of a black fluid that could have been blood, scattered bows and arrows, and the corpses of the elders that had accompanied this group. Their throats had been slit. She cursed wildly before leading her hunters further back, following the path of destruction caused by the demons. Inwardly, she was a little relieved, because while losing elders is always a tragedy, there could have been a lot more corpses. Like this, there was still a glimmer of hope that her people and her idiot son were still alive. 

She felt out their way with her tahlei, so they didn't tumble into the middle of some ambush. In the end it wasn't necessary, because she could hear her people nearly as soon as she could feel them. They were crying out in agony. 

Now, the scene that presents itself to her is one out of nightmares. 

In the center of the clearing is a heap of dead pouchlings, drawing her and her hunters gazes like moths to a flame. The big eyes in little faces are open and empty.  
A hatred she has never known before burns in her chest and nearly steals her breath, but she manages to hold back.  
From their position in the trees, they can overlook the open space before them without giving themselves away, not that the demons pay much attention at the moment. The creatures in their heavy looking hulls are either throwing broken little bodies onto the mound, or are pointing what is undoubtedly their weapons at the rioting Zatoan in their cages. She catches a glimpse of Yondu, and a knot in her stomach region loosens. 

“Pharaqa,” one of her huntresses whispers. “What are we gonna do?” 

She takes everything in, the star with its open belly, the cages, the dead children, and recalls Anama's words. Their numbers are about even, and they are yet undiscovered. They don't have time for much before their people will be hoisted up into the belly of the beast. 

So Pharaqa says, “We kill those bastards as hard as possible, of course,” and picks an arrow from her quiver. 

~

Yondu is hoarse from screaming. The people around him are either right there with him, or sobbing their eyes out. Both reactions to what happened are equally useless in this situation, but he prefers the fighting-and-cursing method over lying down any day. 

Just as he takes a deep breath to begin hollering again, he feels a touch through his tahlei. It's a presence he could pick out of a hundred others, and it nearly makes him choke on his lungful of air. He reciprocates, and takes a hold of Toll, murmuring, “We have company,” in his ear. 

Then, clear and sharp like a knife's edge, a whistle pierces the air.  
A whole choir of high trills answer, and a barrage of red arrows flies out of the leaves. 

The demons have no time to take cover before they are hit. A third of them goes down, fatally wounded. The rest of the arrows bounces off of armor or graze their targets only lightly. Nevertheless, the remaining demons scramble back, taking cover between their star's legs or by the cages.

Gray, for example, decides that there is no better hiding spot than behind the crates with the Zatoan prisoners, where no arrow would fly. The attackers would never aim where their own people could be harmed, after all. He miscalculates, though, assuming his back is save, and stumbles too close to the bars. It's perfect.  
Yondu throws himself against them, wedges as much as possible through, and swings his arms to get a grab on the demon. His fingertips miss by only a centimeter, and he growls.  
But the demon, the _Kree_ , has noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, and half turns, bringing his shoulder guard into grabbing distance.  
Toll, who is at Yondu's side and has longer arms, gets his fingers into a crease of the metal, and pulls. The surprised demon loses his footing and tumbles backwards against the bars, and before he can catch himself, four arms wrap around his torso and neck, holding him close. Others in the cage come to their help, securing as much of Gray as possible, who hollers for his underlings. 

“His arm! His arm! I need his left arm!”, Yondu yells, and Kisho is there in an instance, grabbing the flailing appendage and bending it backwards with all his strength, making the demon yowl.  
Yondu rips the wrist guard open, the way he has seen Gray do it, and is faced with a multitude of little nubs covered in scrawling that means nothing to him. He simply presses all of them. 

Several things happen at once.  
The grabber that had lowered the cages shrieks loudly and drops a good half meter further down, before coming to a stop while blue sparks spray out of it's open, damaged side. The hovering sleighs make an ominous whirring sound and turn dark. One of the maws in the star's side begins to close.  
Most importantly, though, the cage doors fall open. 

Before the demons fully realize what's happening, the Centaurians storm out of the crates. Of course they run to their children first. To the ones who can fling themselves at their parents, and to the ones that are cold already.  
It's an absolute chaos of screaming, crying, and whistling, and the Zatoans don't evacuate the clearing fast enough. Unfortunately, the demons catch themselves quickly, and fire into the crowd. 

Green and blue blasts rip through the air, arrows singing their deadly tune, and people are running.  
Yondu nearly stumbles over a woman clutching a dead boy to her chest who is only a little smaller than Ytzl. He hoists her up, gives her a shake and tells her to _fucking run_. She obeys on automatic and staggers away.  
He sees some of the hunters come out of the forest to help drag their people to safety while their hidden siblings are covering them as best as they can from the trees.  
Yondu catches a glimpse of Finu and her brat, sees a demon suddenly tower over her, and has no better idea than to barge into him. They both tumble to the ground, but the fall is unlucky for Yondu, because he lands at the bottom and the demon's hands wrap around his throat instantly.  
He struggles and writhes, doing his best to throw the demon off, but he's a heavy one, and Yondu's day has been long and exhausting already. Darkness creeps in on the edges of his vision way too soon, and his lungs burn like he inhaled a whole joint of teku in one breath. 

Suddenly the hands go slack, and Yondu's face is sprayed with black blood.  
A knife is embedded in the demon's throat, and he falls to the side after receiving a kick to the shoulder. 

“Get up, boy, we gotta haul ass!” Pharaqa barks, holding a hand out to her son. Yondu lets her haul him up, still wheezing and rubbing at his throat. 

“Fucking move, you morons! Into the forest!” she bellows at the others who aren't yet off the clearing, and pushes her son forwards. 

They only make five steps before Pharaqa sees two of the demons focus on them, recognizing her as a leader of some sort, maybe, or simply deciding they are a good target. Two weapons aim for them. She mutters, “Shit,” and shoves Yondu away while jumping back. 

Yondu lands on his face again, his body wrecked by seizures. The lightning only grazed him, but it's enough to make every muscle in his body shake and flinch violently for what feels like ages. He screws his face up, and prays that he won't bite his tongue off. 

When the twitching finally clings off and then stops completely, Yondu drags his eyes open with a groan, and immediately wishes he hadn't. His insides twist into a tight coil, and his mind goes blank. Just as blank as Pharaqa's wide open eyes that stare at him, unblinking. 

“Mom?” he whispers for the first time in years, but she doesn't answer. She can't, because a bolt of green fire had eaten itself through her heart, just as he had been hit by the lightning.  
It's surreal, seeing her so motionless and vacant, so unlike the energetic, loudmouthed ass hole she usually is. As if this could be fake, or a hallucination, or a really bad joke, Yondu reaches out to place a finger on her neck. There is no pulse, and he can only stare at her, stunned. 

A nearby scream drags him from the stillness, and he has to focus, has to get going, or he will end just like her. 

Pins and needles prickle painfully under his skin, but he has not passed out, which Yondu counts as a win. He has trouble getting into a sitting position because his muscles immediately tense up, so he takes a look around from his place on the ground.  
The fight still wages on, but he can see that the Zatoans are losing. Many lie on the ground, motionless, and the bursts of the demons' weapons fill the air with a crackling static. They fire mostly into the woods, now where most of the hunters have hidden in the trees. For a second, he thinks he sees Toll at the edge of the clearing, but knows he has bigger worries right now. Like how to get rid of the demons that die way too hard, hidden behind their stars' legs and covered in all that metal plating. 

There isn't much in the clearing itself, only the cages on one side, and the star on the other. It's belly is still wide open, and the crates have yet to be brought into grabbing distance to the claw at the end of its metallic arm.  
And then Yondu sees the connection between the grabber hand and the arm, where thick cords made out of a slick material peep out from under metal plating, not unlike the demons armor, but thicker. At the spot where the arm connects to the grabber is the broken off piece dangling down. It's the thing the demon in gray armor had been yelling about earlier.  
Where the cover misses, a fluttering blue light can be seen, similar to the lightning coming out of their weapons. Sizzling blue jumps over a rod, connecting something from above with a piece of the grabber. It's like an open sore, and Yondu can't turn his eyes away even though the brightness hurts. 

He has an idea. 

Turning back to Pharaqa makes him grimace, and he mutters a prayer to Anthos on her behalf. The dead need to be honored, but only after the fight for survival is over. Yondu takes her bow and her arrows.  
This time when he tries to get to his feet, he succeeds, and immediately freezes when one of the demons spots him. He aims his metal weapon, and Yondu doesn't even have time to set an arrow onto the string of his mother's bow.  
The demon pulls the lever, and it's one of the green fire spitting ones, Yondu can tell. He braces for impact, and wonders briefly if Ytzl and Jaku are save, and who will protect them when he's dead? Who will save any of the Zatoans? Who will take revenge for what those _Kree_ did to their children? 

The weapon spits its angry energy. The mass of green fire is burning hot, and he can feel it blistering his skin as it zips past his head.  
An arrow has hit the demon's hand in the last moment, making him jerk the weapon to the side just enough to not blow Yondu's brains out. 

He catches a glimpse of Toll again, this time he's sure, but doesn't waste the precious few seconds his friend has given him. One of Pharaqa's arrows is in his hand, and then the bow is drawn, and before the demon can re-aim and fire, Yondu does what he's a master at. 

He lets the arrow fly, and whistles. 

It makes the one who had tried to kill him snarl, but it's too late. The arrow, guided on it's way by the connection between yaka and tahlei, sails at the fritzing cable thing. It hits point black, boring into its target, and the world goes up in flames. 

The explosion, blinding and searing hot, flings the demons who stand right beneath it away from their star. 

Yondu's ears ring, and his head spins, and he belatedly realizes that he, too, is laying on the ground a little further away than just a second before.  
Then Toll is at his side, pulling him to his feet and yelling in his face that he needs _to not be dead, fucking hell_. Before Yondu can ask him what he thinks he is doing, Toll wraps him up in his arms so tightly that his aching ribs protest vehemently.  
Then Toll storms off again with a knife in hand, and starts cutting the throats of the demons on the ground. Even the ones that aren't moving anymore get a second smile, but one can probably not be too careful when star demons are concerned. More hunters join him, and the last of the Zatoan flee into the woods. 

Yondu gets to his feet very slowly, and stumbles over to the empty cages. There is something left to do, and here is where he last saw Gray. He takes a considering look around until he finds him, and staggers over.  
Toll hasn't bothered with Gray, because the guy's front is practically burned off and his head is dangling very loosely on hi neck. There is not much left to slice open, really. Yondu only recognizes him by the color of his armor.  
Their metal plates seem to be a whole lot more sturdy than the demons themselves, Yondu muses, and crouches down on the corpse's left side. He opens the little hatch on the wrist piece again, covered in black soot on the outside, but intact on the inside, and studies it. For a second, he wonders if it's magic, but then discards the thought. Just because you don't understand it doesn't mean old wives' tales are true. There was a time, he's heard, when the Ignokai thought the yaka arrows of the Zatoan were magic. 

He wonders how the demons found them in the forest, and if this little box had anything to do with it. 

~

There's a warship circling Alpha Centauri. It's captain launches on his chair on the bridge, watching video footage from the surface from a few hours ago on repeat. He sees how a blue man, a savage who has never seen electricity before, let alone an exposed energy coupling, fires a single arrow and kills a whole team of his soldiers.  
He taps the holo screen to zoom in on the Centaurian's face as the man examines a wrist comm. A smile stretches the captain's lips. 

“I want this one for myself,” he tells no one in particular, but knows that his second in command heard him and will not dare to disappoint.


	11. Flesh and bone like everybody else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They laid their dead down together in neat rows instead of the careless heap they were thrown onto, and burned them. Yondu, who had been at his father's side for many death rites over the years, spoke the ceremonial prayers. The herbs and spices were missing, the individual blessings, the time to mourn at the fire, but it had to be enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me a lot of trouble, and I don't even know why. But now it's finished and I'm even half way happy with it.  
> Enjoy :)

The trees in a 500 meter radius around the caves have been cleared, the soil is dug up and muddy with the occasional stump sticking out like a splintered bone out of a raw wound. The broken trunks of the once majestic trees have been burned on a gigantic pyre. Their black husks are still smoking.  
Giant, monstrous constructs populate the open area, moving with the ear-splitting shriek of gyrating metal, alive but cold without a heart beat. One is driving its claws into the stone around the cave entrance, widening it by breaking hut sized chunks of rock out and transporting them off to another metal creature that slurps them into its wide maw. On the other side of the huge, whirring and clanking body, pebbles drop out to be ferried to the next monstrosity.

Dozens of creatures that must be the demons walk around or sit in their metal buildings.

Jaku and her hunt sister Xhava duck back down and make their way back to the trunk of the tree they use as overlook, and then run, jump and climb from branch to branch until they have put a good distance between themselves and the roaring, shrieking star constructs. They slide down the tree and rush through the underbrush.

After a while they hear a soft little trill that Jaku mimics, and two of her hunters lean out of their cover to wave them over. The people of their group look up when they walk into their midst, questions burning in their eyes. They can hear the unholy sounds from further up the mountain even down here.

“The demons are at the caves,” Jaku tells them. “We can't go there.”

“How did they find them?” one of the elders wants to know, and another asks, “What do they want there?”

“They cut down many of the trees to make space for their stars. From what I saw they were digging into the rock.”

“Maybe they are after the yaka?” someone muses.

“Is it important _why_ they are here?” Jaku snaps. “We can't stay. Our first goal should be to find the chief and then our missing people. _Then_ we can wonder about the motives of those crest-less fuckers.”

She's impatient and angry, and had been against coming this far up in the first place.

The trek from the village had been a relatively quiet one with the occasional forest animal that ran off once the group came too close for comfort. No big predators or demons had made them problems.  
Then the messenger had reached them and explained what happened, and what Pharaqa's and Uzuko's orders were. Jaku wanted to ignore them. She wanted to say, “Fuck it,” and go rescue her man and her people. She nearly did, too, but the elders managed to talk her out of it. She had a duty to her charges and her leaders, after all.  
The only consolation she had was that Ytzl was save with his grandfather, and that nobody was more qualified to rescue the missing group than Pharaqa.  
So they made their way further up the mountain side, and were supposed to be the first group to reach the entrance to the caves. Jaku had spurred her people on relentlessly, because the earlier she would have them in safety, the sooner she could go and do something about the _situation_.

Then they heard the ominous sounds that got louder the closer they came to their destination. She had deemed it too dangerous to go further, and had taken one of her best huntresses with her to scout ahead.

Now their save shelter is gone.

“Jaku,” old Riin says. When she has her attention, she beckons her over.  
“You know the fastest way to intercept the group of our chief, do you not?”

“Of course. We can reach them in an hour if we hurry,” Jaku answers.

“Then it would be wise to do so, so we may warn them and come up with a new plan.”

~

They make it in only 40 minutes.

While her group sit their lazy asses down to catch their breath after the work out she just put them through, Jaku storms over to Uzuko who has made his people pause when her scouts first reached them.

“My chief,” Jaku pants. She manages a shallow bow before taking her wildly squirming and pitifully chirping son out of Uzuko's hold to wrap her arms around him tightly. Ytzl immediately begins sobbing and blabbers about the star that came and the evil demons and about how he did exactly what daddy told him.

“I'm proud of you, you did so good. Everything is okay now, my sweetling. I'm here, and your grandma is searching for daddy. Shhhhh,” she murmurs in her most soothing voice. She doesn't practice it often, but hopes it will calm her boy down.

“Jaku,” Uzuko says gravely, but not unkindly. She knows that she needs to get her head in the game, and Ytzl out of earshot if they want to talk about the fate of the missing people.

“Xhava!” she calls, and when her friend comes over, she hands a clingy Ytzl to her.  
“Stay with your aunt and be good. I will get you again in just a moment.”

The little one is decidedly unhappy about this and wails, but Xhava has four younger siblings that she helped raise, so she is used to handling distraught kids, and slips away from the chief and the future leader of the hunters humming a song.

“The scouts told you why we can't proceed, right?” Jaku asks once they're out of earshot, and her chief nods. He looks tired.

“Yes. Now we have to figure out where to go. We cannot go up the mountain, we cannot stay here in the open for long either, and we cannot leave without knowing what happened to our missing people and the hunters that went looking for them. If there are survivors and we go somewhere else, they won't be able to find us, and may even walk into the demons' arms up at the caves.”

“Not _if_ ,” Jaku growls. “There are survivors, there have to be. We should follow their path back.”

“Out of the question. 4/5 of the remaining people are village sitters who need the hunters for protection. You and your hunt siblings need to stay with us, and we can't just walk into the unknown.”

“But we _have_ to do something!” Jaku yells. It makes the people closest to them turn, but she doesn't care. So they see her disagree with the chief. Fuck them. Fuck it all. It's a very Yondu-esque thought, and would normally make her insides churn, but at the moment she doesn't give a yollop shit.  
Uzuko studies her, and she doesn't want to know what he sees. Bone deep fear, maybe. Anger. Desperation. Jaku knows that there is just as much at stake for him as for her. His only son, the future chieftain of the tribe. The woman he has ruled with side by side for over twenty years. Approximately half the village, including all the children and most of their hunters.

“It is too dangerous, Jaku,” he says quietly, and her heart drops. Then he sighs, and continues, “But we can walk in their direction, at least until we reach the spot where the creek crosses their original path. It is further away from the caves, and from there we can decide where to go next.”

She takes a deep breath, and says, “Thank you,” before turning around and hollering for her hunters to get off their asses and take their positions.

~

There was no possibility to take the bodies with them. It would have slowed them down too much, and the smell of death would have attracted all the predators in a ten kilometer radius. So Yondu made a decision.  
They laid their dead down together in neat rows instead of the careless heap they were thrown onto, and burned them. Yondu, who had been at his father's side for many death rites over the years, spoke the ceremonial prayers. The herbs and spices were missing, the individual blessings, the time to mourn at the fire, but it had to be enough for now.

Then they left the clearing behind.

The hunters that had come to the rescue told them of Ytzl's message, and of the other two groups' plans. They were still headed for the caves, so Yondu leads his people in that direction as well.  
He throws one last look at the maw of the star, and wonders about the horrors in its belly. Or the treasures. Who knows? But if they don't have enough time for their dead, then they sure as hell can't spend it crawling around in a metal beasts belly. Nobody looks like they have the guts for it, anyway.

It's quiet, so quiet in their ranks. They are all shaken by what happened, what those demons did. Most have not even begun processing it yet, and Yondu has to fight to keep his mind from drifting.  
From time to time he looks over, where Finu is walking close to him with her daughter in her arms and Toll hovering at her other side, never leaving more than a step between them. Those two were lucky, Yondu muses, both parents and their brat getting out alive. He is, too. Many aren't.

Yondu wants to reach the others as soon as possible. He is exhausted and numb, a bad mixture in the forest. They follow their original path, because they can be sure they won't stumble over a yollop nest that way. They come across the bodies of the village elders, and have to chase the scavengers away that feast on them. After burning these corpses, too, they continue on their path.

Yondu feels sick, and all he wants is to give Jaku a hug, hold his brat close, and let Uzuko decide what's happening next. He wants to sleep. He wants to not think about dead pouchlings and crying parents and how he could easily have been one of them. He wants to not ask himself if he could have done better.

Every noise makes the people flinch, or whimper, or tear up, but the roaring of the stars stays away for now.

After a while, Yondu starts studying the wrist piece. The metal it is inlaid in is heavy, but the thing itself is not very big. Some soft nubs to press, a shiny surface that has changing lights and shapes on it, a hatch to cover the whole thing up. That's all there is. And yet it could open the cages from afar, it could make the sleighs do things, it could make the metal arm of the ship move. That's a shit load of functionality for such a small box. Yondu wonders if it can do even more, and carefully presses a nub. The shapes on the shiny part change, moving over it in blocks. Yondu pushes it again, and little pictures appear instead of the blocks. They show thin curves winding around straight lines that look like arrows crossing each other in the middle. More of the geometric shapes appear next to the lines. Yondu presses the nub again, and the thin lines get replaced by differently colored stripes that grow out of the arrows.

“Well, that shit don't make sense,” he murmurs, and concentrates on his path instead.

~

When they reach the creak the last rays of sunshine fight their way through the leafs, and Yondu finally lets the group rest. They need to wash the blood of their children and siblings off. He can't believe that it was only this morning when they left the village behind. It feels like centuries ago.

After he told the hunters to keep guard and sent a few off into the woods to scout ahead, he leans against a tree at the edge of the gathering and fiddles with the wrist piece once more. This time, he presses another nub, and the picture it shows now is very colorful. There are many shades of green, a stripe of blue through the middle, and right next to it a big splash of orange-red. Yondu gives the picture a not so gentle tap, and it moves, zooming in on the red area. What at first looked like one big mass of red actually consists of many smaller dots huddled together and moving like a nest of worms.

There are a bunch of single dots in a bit of a distance to the big one, sitting in there places without moving. One of them is right in the middle of the picture. Suddenly, a little glob breaks off of the mother glob and drifts over to the central point. When it reaches its' destination, Finu says, “Hey Yondu.”

Startled, he looks up, and there she is with Toll and their brat.

“What?” He asks.

“I thought that after what happened, no one should be alone,” she explains, and lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. He gives them a look, and then gazes back down at the wrist piece. The glob is still where it hit the small dot.

“What are you doing with that thing?” Toll asks dubiously, looking at it like it might bite.

“It managed to open the doors, and do a bunch of other stuff. I wanna know how,” he answers, tracking the movement of the dots and looking at the people wading into the creek. He starts walking further away from the group, and the whole picture slides a bit to the side. Not the dot in the middle, though. It stays fixed in the center.  
Yondu returns to his friends, making the picture shift back into its’ original position, and is too concentrated on his doodat to see them look at him strangely.

“Do me a favor?” he asks Finu, looking up barely long enough to see her nod eagerly.

“If I can help, certainly.”

“Good,” he says, “Go away. Both of you.”

They frown, and Yondu makes a shooing motion with his free hand.

“Alright,” Toll mumbles, and leads his women away in the direction of the group. Yondu looks at the wrist piece, and sees how the glob separates from the little dot again and floats back to the big mass of red.

“Hey, Toll,” Yondu calls out, and the trio stops in their tracks and look at him. “You come back here. Finu, stay where you are.”

“Why?” is the impatient question. Man, can't that fucker have a little faith? Genius can't be rushed.

“Because I said so, dick. Now move it!”

Toll does as he's told. He makes his way back to Yondu, who keeps one eye on him and another on the wrist piece, where a dot breaks off from the glob and returns to the one in the middle. They merge when Toll comes to a stop in front of him and stems his hands into his sides.

“Holy fucking shit,” Yondu breathes, not taking his eyes of the thingy.

“What?” Toll asks with a raised brow. Then, when no further explanation comes forth, a little more panicked, “What is it, what is it doing?”

“You'll see. Now we watch this as we walk over to Finu,” Yondu answers, and starts walking. They don't go in a straight line, though, but swerve to the side, then stop, then take a couple of steps backwards, then sprint the rest of the way to Finu.

When they reach her and her brat, both looking on with open confusion, Toll says faintly, “Holy fucking shit.”

“We're the dots,” Yondu cheers, holding the thingy into Finu's face. “The big mass is the group, the lone drops away from the rest are the hunters on look out. And if you tap it here -“ he demonstrates, making the picture zoom out again so a bigger area is shown, and gasps. Their blob, resting next to the blue line that he realizes must be the creek, is not the only one on the picture. There is another mass, big and scarlet red, and it's moving in their direction.

“What? Why are you looking like that?” Toll asks weary and leans over his shoulder.

Fuck.

Not again.

_Not now, please, please, not now._

Yondu stares at the little box, and his mind goes blank. Damnit! They got away! It's not fair that those Kree are coming for them again already.

They got away the first time through sheer luck and faulty equipment, but he has no idea what to do now. His system is flooded with adrenaline, and his body strains to run, but he doesn't know where. Even if he did, there is no reason to believe the demons aren't in the possession of more of these wrist pieces. They will just locate them like they did this morning, not bothered by the approaching night.  
But they might have as much trouble seeing in the dark as the Centaurians, and no tahleis to feel out the living surroundings of the vegetation. So, all they need to do is confuse them, right? Yondu lets his finger flick over the colorful picture, but no matter how he turns it, it doesn't show anything but the top down view.

He squares his shoulders, and tries to make his voice sound like he knows what he's doing, like this plan is a good one, and not the only one he's got. Like it's not born from exhaustion and fear and a completely untested hypothesis about the little wonder box he snatched from a dead demon a few hours earlier.

“Toll, we got company. They're coming from west, and their movement speed suggests they're on foot. Go warn the sentries. They gotta move their asses back here pronto, and stay up in the trees as high as possible,” Yondu orders. When his friend hesitates, eyes skipping over to Finu and the brat, Yondu grabs her elbow to pull them close.

“I got them,” he says, and Toll finally leaves at a run.

Yondu shuts the wrist piece again, and cups his hands around his mouth.

“Listen up, people!” he calls, making the despondent Centaurians turn to him, and for a moment his voice gets stuck in his throat. They're all so tired, washed out and pained faces looking at him with empty eyes. His news won't make anything easier.

“Someone's comin' our way.”

The reactions are as expected. Blankness gets filled with panic and whimpering. They jump to their feet and look like they're about to take off into the underbrush in a chaotic mob.

“Guys, come on,” he calls, but nobody listens.

“People!” Finu calls louder. No effect.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Yondu roars over their noisy bustling. That makes them freeze. He ignores the reproachful look Finu shoots him, and clears his throat before continuing in a more appropriate volume and cadence.

“Alright, everybody take a deep breath and _listen to me_! Running didn't do nothing last time, it won't do nothing now. Instead, we go up into the trees. Those fuckers are too heavy with all their metal plating, so the higher the better. Everybody grab a bunch of rocks, as big as possible, the hunters take up positions they can shoot from. We stay in cover, and don't take stupid risks!”

There's a beat of silence, and Yondu wonders why they're not moving. Then Kisho calls from somewhere in the crowd, “And then what? We throw our rocks and shoot our arrows that are nearly useless, and then? We wait for them to get bored?”

Yondu bites down on the urge to go and throttle him, and says instead, “We better aim good, I guess.”

“The star ripped a tree out of the ground, they could do it again!” someone else chimes in, and Yondu overcomes the tightness in his own chest long enough to roll his eyes in exasperation.

Finu comes to his help, and barks with surprising fervor, “They're on foot, and those crest-less monsters aren't strong enough to do it without their flying boxes, so stop wasting time and get on the trees!”

“What happens if we can't kill them all?” a young huntress asks from the front. She doesn't even try to be contrary, it's an honest question, like she expects Yondu to have an answer. Anthos above, having people depend on him _sucks_.

“No idea, but we can at least _try_. Fighting is better than running. Now, if you smart asses would rather lay down in the dirt and die, at least don't depress everybody else. The rest, MOVE IT!”

After another moment's hesitation, they listen. The parents take care of their children's ascension, and Yondu discusses with the hunters where the optimal shooting positions are.  
Tensions are high, the people are shook after the day they had, and nobody actually wants to stay on the ground. Fear has the weird ability to make some obedient, and some question everything they hear, mixed in with a healthy dosage of the flight or fight reflex.  
Yondu knows that, of course, but he has had the same shitty day as them, and his muscles quiver with adrenaline when he looks at the wrist piece again and sees that the other blob has come closer. It's preceded by a smaller flock of dots, which are considerably closer. A vanguard, probably.

He stays on the ground until the last stragglers are in the process of climbing, and personally hustles Kisho up a tree, who is still bitching. Then they all try to stay as still as possible, hidden behind the thick greenery and the mighty branches of the forest giants.

Yondu keeps an eye on the box that tells him that the little dots of the sentries have joined them again, and that the big blob has reached the creek and is making it's way along it. It can only be minutes before its advance party reaches their hiding spot.  
He is so concentrated on that task that he doesn't hear Toll's approach until the other comes up behind him and whispers, “Hey.”

Yondu nearly falls off the branch.

“Don't fucking do that!” he hisses, and gives the other man a punch to the shoulder for good measure. Toll lifts his hands in the I-surrender-gesture, and scoots over next to Yondu, who shows him the wrist guard.

“They should be close enough for us to sense them, if we concentrate,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, but every time I try to reach out, I get bombarded by everybody's misery. Not that them demons presence makes any kind of sense,” Yondu answers in the same quiet tone. Empathy can be really useful on the hunt, but it's also a heavy burden when everyone around you is devastated. It multiplies his own feelings tenfold, and if he doesn't watch it, it drowns out the world around him until he only feels crushing sadness. That doesn't mean he can stop trying, though. He grips his mother's bow harder, and takes a deep breath.  
The wave of pain nearly flattens him like a gust of wind during the summer storms out on the plains. Instead of shying back, he forces the others out as good as he can, and focuses all his senses on the approaching group. He prepares for the same sensations he got in his nightly meditations. What he feels, though, is not the completely foreign dissonance of the demons. He finds something comfortably familiar. A pulsing like synchronized heart beats, warm and rhythmic.

Yondu gasps, and his knuckles go white where they wrap around Toll's arm, who tries to bat him away.

“What?!” he hisses.

“I think it’s not demons that are comin’,” he answers. “I need a second opinion here. Listen!”

Toll does. At first, pain makes his face scrunch up when the tidal wave of _emotions_ hits him, but he manages to overcome it, too. A true hunter, trained in the art of detecting prey in the wilderness. When his eyes snap back open, he grins so wide that his gums show.

~

When the vanguard reaches the little clearing at the creek, a many-voiced cheer startles birds from the tree tops.

The descend goes a lot faster than the climb up. The little group of hunters, sent ahead to secure a path, immediately sends one of theirs back to the rest of the tribe.

Then they emerge from the forest, too, and the Zatoans are united again.  
Family members fall into each others arms, friends and hunt siblings bump their fore heads together, and the heavy depression that hung over the clearing gets mixed with the soft feeling of relief. It's just a momentary one, but all they can ask for right now. The soul crushing grief will soon enough sweep over them again, when the extent of what happened gets shared with the others.

Yondu catches a glance of his father in the rush of bodies around him, and it lifts a weight of his shoulders that was on the brink of crushing him. All thoughts leave him, though, when suddenly Jaku is in his path, Ytzl in her arms. The high pitched trills they both whistle are the sweetest sound Yondu has ever heard, and in any other situation he would have scolded himself for such a sappy thought, but right now nothing else matters. When he gets his hands on his son, the world is okay again, if only for a moment.

“Good job,” he murmurs.

“Yondu?” his father says, taking in the appearance of the group, the feelings that stick to them like the stink of the swamp, and how there are a lot less people than there should be.  
Yondu doesn't answer. He just holds Ytzl, presses him against his chest too tightly, but Ytzl doesn't complain. His breath comes in heaving sobs, panting against his daddy's neck, and his little fingers dig in with surprising strength.  
Jaku is at their side, one hand on each of her boys' backs, warm and secure and comforting. Yondu rests his cheek against the little one's head, and closes his eyes. Just for a moment.


	12. My heart, my home

There's a lot of hugging and crying. The third wave of grief hits, and they all nearly drown in this unrelenting flood.   
Yondu shares what he learned about the wrist piece, and Uzuko nearly breaks his hand in the effort to wrench it free and throw it into the creek. He can convince him that it's an asset, not a cursed object, but only barely. He's still side-eyeing it, and Yondu just hopes that the thing won't do something weird and his father decides to chop off his hand to get rid of it faster. 

Jaku is officially named leader of the hunters. She accepts the title grimly and swears to protect her tribe and her chief with her life. 

After a short while, Uzuko and the elders manage to get their people back on their feet, and they continue their march along the creek, spread out and in smaller groups. They walk through the night until they reach the river under the waterfalls. Its bed is flat and broad for several kilometers, and herds of ukki, big mammalian prey animals, populate the forest on the riverside. With their horns and their thick skin and the one to two tons of body weight, they're not usually on the Centaurians' menu. Especially when the relatively calm creatures turn into rage monsters in mating season, and then again when their young are born. In the forest, they're prey to the yollops alone, and in the plains to the giant lizard cats. Naturally, they can't climb, stomping through the underbrush and the water instead, so the Centaurians make camp in the trees. Toll and Finu have the idea that the herds and the size of the ukki should be able to mask the small Centaurian groups scattered around the area from the wrist pieces of the demons, and so they decide to make this their camp for the foreseeable future. 

After they reached the river in the early morning hours, a while before the suns rise, they start a few fires, hidden in the natural alcoves of the tree giants' roots. To be sure they drape pelts around them to shield the light from onlookers. Uzuko and Yondu go from group to group, from fire to fire, and burn incense and teku while saying the prayers for the deceased. Both the dead and the living deserve the proper rites.   
Afterward, the people climb the trees for the night, out of reach of predators and prey alike. 

Uzuko and Yondu are the last ones standing in front of the final dancing flames. After breathing in the fumes of the intoxicating roots and spices for so long, they can practically see the spirits of the deceased curling in the burning embers. They mourn their charges, the people they were supposed to protect but couldn't, and Pharaqa. Adviser, partner, nuisance, mother, teacher, leader. 

“I apologize for calling you a liar,” Uzuko says, apropos nothing. He sounds like speaking hurts. Yondu manages to drag his eyes away from the flames to look at his father's tear-stained face.

“What?” He's hoarse, too.

“When you claimed Anthos told you to make a child out of season, I called you a liar,” his father  
explains. “I was wrong. Had Ytzl been born only half a year later, he would-...”

Uzuko's voice breaks, and he can't finish his sentence. He doesn't have to. After all, they stand in front of what became of all the pouchlings born half a year after Ytzl. A simmering pyre without any bones, and spirits that will go to Anthos decades before their time.   
Never in his life has Yondu felt so angry and helpless. The deep chasm of numbness that has swallowed up all the fury, hatred and fear during their trek away from the star has spat all those emotions back out, and they sear his insides. Thrown into the mix is a sour speck of selfish relief that none of those small, broken bodies was Ytzl.

Fingers grasp his, and Yondu gives them a squeeze.

“He is a gift from Anthos,” Uzuko murmurs through the tears and holds his son's hand tight. 

~

Up in the branches, a breathtaking height above the ground, Yondu curls up with Jaku, Ytzl cradled between them. They're wrapped in a soft pelt to keep the fresh morning winds from cooling them out. Sentries are higher up in the trees, looking over the entire area the Zatoans have made camp in. The rotations are short because everybody is exhausted. The suns are rising, tendrils of their light painting the sky in soft hues of blue and pink. The people in the height don't move, don't wake if they can sleep, don't stop pretending if they couldn't. 

Tomorrow is close, but not yet here. 

~

“We need to fight,” Yondu says hotly. There are circles under his eyes, as well as under Jaku's, but the morning wasn't particularly restful for anyone. That doesn't stop him from glaring, brows furrowed deeply, and squaring up like he's ready to fight right here and now. The whole picture is a little ruined by Ytzl in his arms, clinging to his father and blinking lazily into the warm rays of morning light that filter through the sparser canopy at the river's edge. Beneath them, at the foot of their tree, an ukkie bleats. Uzuko would smile mildly, or maybe even chuckle, were it not for the situation. Instead, he hands them a flatbread each. 

“Eat something before making any stupid claims,” is his only reply. Yondu, without breaking eye contact, folds his bread and shoves the entire thing into his mouth. Jaku snorts. Uzuko looks on with a raised eyebrow, and keeps eating dried berries. He's used to disgusting displays from his son, and way too tired to scold him for it. Finally, after gulping painfully, Yondu speaks again. 

“We have to fight against them. You said they sat up base up at the caves. The only thing of value in there is yaka. If we can destroy their metal beasts-” 

“With what? Our arrows?”

“Why do you people keep saying that,” Yondu grumbles, but Uzuko ignores it. 

“Jaku says they were as tall as the trees, and as broad as the rivers down in the plains. Giant constructs of star metal, ripping apart the mountain's side.” 

Yondu makes to protest, but Uzuko stops him by reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in a hopefully comforting manner, and says, “You managed to save our people with an arrow, boy, but it was a lucky coincidence. A wounded star and a keen eye. An arrow will not work again.” 

“We could use their weapons,” Jaku says casually, twisting off a piece of bread and feeding it to Ytzl who chews noisily right next to Yondu's ear. 

“We don't _have_ their weapons,” Uzuko counters aggrieved. He'd hoped she, seeing as she had laid her own eyes on the stars up at the caves, would be wiser. But she only shares a glance with Yondu over their son's head, like they knew he was going to say that. Oh.   
Oh, they came prepared. 

“Actually,” Yondu says, and Jaku continues, “We think we could get our hands on some.”

He should say no. He should tell them what folly their plan is undoubtedly going to turn out to be. But right now, as he looks at them, angry and eager, a young couple dealing with worries that should be the problem of older people, he thinks of two others very different and at the same time not different at all.   
A long time ago, when the flood of the century had destroyed their food reserves and the chief had just succumbed to the fever, along with half the village, a young and grief-stricken Uzuko had taken his place and stood before a ruined, starving tribe. He'd been hopeless back then, and angry, and overwhelmed with the burden of his duty. Then the leader of the hunters had stepped before him and told him that his right hand might have an idea to keep them from starving. That right hand, a young huntress at least half a head smaller than anybody else and Uzuko's personal nemesis, had shared her plan to slay a herd of ukki. The creatures were in the middle of their mating season, and the plan was insane. It would endanger the few hunters they had left, would leave the mud flooded ruins that used to be the village undefended. But Pharaqa, fierce and young and impatient, had had a fire in her eyes, a spark that spoke of her determination and her will to fight, to do anything possible, and even some things impossible. 

“We need the food,” she'd said, her arms crossed and her scowl dark. “We need it fast.” 

“Your plan is stupid,” Uzuko had told her, and she'd laughed at him, back then still mostly without malice and resentment.

“It's not stupid, it's desperate,” she had answered. 

A week later, a precious few hunters returned home, sans their leader and six of their brothers and sisters. They carried pack frames filled with meat. The village could eat, could heal, and could rebuild.   
A year later, Yondu was born. 

Desperate times call for desperate measures, so instead of saying no, Uzuko asks, “How?” and is met with two dirty grins. 

“We do it like the yollops do,” Jaku says. “A bait, a trap, a gruesome death.”


	13. We could be free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are spots in the forest where it's deathly quiet. Utterly unremarkable compared with everywhere else in the region, yet there are no critters rustling through the underbrush and no birds nesting in the branches. Only the whisper of the wind can be heard in the leafs far up above the ground. The eerie aura of those spots would set any passers by on edge, be they animal or Centaurian, if it wasn't for the smell. Sweet like the tasty fruits from the highest trees, ripe and mouthwatering and delicious. Sweet like rot. At first it’s only a distant perfume that fills the mind with a warm hum like the first ray of sunshine prickling over cool skin after a long night. It’s so subtle at first that one doesn't even consciously notice the fragrance until they're drunk on it, until it has stretched its' tendrils far up into the brain and lured them in too deep. 
> 
> Jaku is leading her hunters straight to the closest one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Walks in 9 months late with star bucks* 
> 
> HEYAAAA!!! I am alive, and I even bring an update! I hope there are some peeps out there who are still interested in this fucker :DDD   
> So sorry that it took so long, but after my bachelor thesis was done, writer's block hit me like a freight train. Now I'm back though, so yei :3

There are spots in the forest where it's deathly quiet. Utterly unremarkable compared with everywhere else in the region, yet there are no critters rustling through the underbrush and no birds nesting in the branches. Only the whisper of the wind can be heard in the leafs far up above the ground. The eerie aura of those spots would set any passers by on edge, be they animal or Centaurian, if it wasn't for the smell. Sweet like the tasty fruits from the highest trees, ripe and mouthwatering and delicious. Sweet like rot. At first it’s only a distant perfume that fills the mind with a warm hum like the first ray of sunshine prickling over cool skin after a long night. It’s so subtle at first that one doesn't even consciously notice the fragrance until they're drunk on it, until it has stretched its' tendrils far up into the brain and lured them in too deep.   
No animal of the forest, prey and predator alike, is save from the sweet perfume of death. The Centaurians are way too often no exception. All the hunters can do is be vigilant and stay far away from the quiet spots, and should a group stumble over a new one, make sure that at least one survivor makes it back to the others to share its' location. 

Jaku is leading her hunters straight to the closest one. 

They're panting from the long run they already have behind them, and with every heaving breath she can taste the sweetness in the back of her throat. It’s going to her head, making her thoughts sluggish like only smoking teku root does, but she just passed the symbols carved into the tree trunks, the last warnings before they enter the quiet spot. She doesn't have to glance back to know that the demons are still following her group. They make a real racket breaking through the underbrush and their guttural voices echo between the trees. Again and again bolts of lightning shoot past the branches Jaku and her hunters clamber over, high enough to stay out of the demons' reach but low enough that the evil creatures can still see and follow them.   
She had left Yondu back at camp, who was very loudly proclaiming how much the arrangement pissed him off, but at the same time not letting go of Ytzl who hadn’t stopped clinging since his father’s return. The little one started sniffling when he wasn’t enveloped by either of his parents arms. His big, bright eyes, wet with the tears of a babe that didn’t understand what was going on but felt the grief of his surroundings nonetheless, nearly broke Jaku’s resolve. Not that she’d ever tell anyone. She had to be strong and forceful and confident. She had to tell Yondu that he better keep his ass in camp or she’d whistle him a second hole, even though she probably would have felt more secure in the success of the mission if he had come. It was their plan, after all. They had worked it together, because they could be a united front from time to time, and when they were, nobody could stop them. Which was probably the reason behind Yondu’s obstinacy. He had to stay behind while she was out enacting their plan alone. “You better make this work,” he’d said early this morning, when Jaku had gathered a handful of her hunters.   
“I ain’t telling this one no bad news, ya hear me? Just imagine all the sniveling and crying and drooling.” He bounced Ytzl on his hip for emphasize. Maybe he was just worried about her. That was a comforting thought, somehow. 

Jaku had set out with a handful of her hunters to find herself some prey, making the trek back in the direction of the clearing where the demons had captured their people first. On the way they had found a patrol of the crestless creatures, a group of seven. Since they were carrying wrist pieces like the one still clamped around Yondu’s arm they noticed the Zatoans only a few moments after they felt the disturbance of the foreigners’ presence thrum in their crests. Ignoring everything she’d ever learned about hunting and the life in the forest, she had screamed, “Run!” and nearly got nailed by a lightning bolt for her troubles. The chase was on. She’s just happy that every hunter has memorized the quiet spots like the back of their hands, so in the mad hunt she didn’t have to give directions to her people. 

The underbrush down below is undisturbed and there is no sign of danger, yet Jaku can feel the terror battling with the lull of the sweet hum. Her stomach feels like it’s not sure if it should be turning with nerves or growling for whatever fruit smells so mouthwatering. She motions to her hunters to go higher and keep moving west, watching out for the demons stalking them on the ground. 

Then she sees it.

At first it looks like a luminescent mushroom growing between the high roots of the tree giant she is currently perched on. The blue glow is gentle and soothing and she just knows that the delicious smell comes from it. She wants to touch it. She wants to taste it, because it will be juicy and refreshing and quench her thirst and hunger. Alarms ring in her head, but she thinks she can risk just one bite. What else is she even here for? 

Suddenly she’s perched on the root, only about three meters above the ground, without remembering how she climbed down the trunk. To her right, the strange fruit glows, radiating it’s appeal up at her, enticing her with tendrils that slither further and further into her mind until their barbs hurt from inside her tahlei. 

A load crunch shatters the trance, making Jaku flinch so hard she nearly falls off her root. To her left is a demon, tall and armored and gripping a weapon that will be aimed at her in just a moment. He stumbled over a dead branch in order to get into a good firing position, inadvertently saving Jaku’s life. Because when she glances back to her right with her mind a little clearer now, she sees what her eyes didn’t want to see before.   
What was a mushroom has grown into a long, barbed tendril, and it’s reaching towards her. On its’ ascent it sways softly, hypnotically, and she has to remind herself again that she does not, in fact, want to touch it. Only a moment longer and it will reach her. Only a moment longer and she will die.   
The demon aims up at her. From where he stands he can’t see the tentacle because it’s still hidden behind the root Jaku is cowering on. He won’t be quick enough to pull the trigger, Jaku thinks, and then the moment is here and she does the only thing that her foggy mind can conjure up. She jumps.  
The demon looks surprised when she falls towards him. He’s hit with pure Zatoan muscle, feet planting heavily on the chestpiece of his armor, hands grappling for his weapon. The impact makes him fall over backwards, but he doesn’t let go of his weapon. It’s not hard to guess that he’s a trained fighter, the way he uses their momentum to roll them over further. He’s a towering man, two heads taller than Jaku, leaning his weight on the weapon that’s pressed across her chest. Pinned into the dirt like that, she can’t move. She can barely expand her lungs far enough to breathe. He opens his mouth to snarl or to gloat, not that she can tell the difference with their growling language. He doesn't get the chance to make a sound, anyway, because the tentacle shoots over the root and wraps around the first thing that comes in its’ path, which happens to be the demon's neck. It pulls tight. The demon lets go of his weapon to claw at it - to no avail. The barbs bury themselves in his flesh and black blood smears across tentacle and skin. Some drips down on Jaku's face. Then the tentacle goes taut and rips away with such force that the demon's neck breaks. His lifeless body gets dragged over the root and suddenly Jaku lies alone in the dirt, the demon's weapon in her arms.

Somewhere in the surrounding underbrush more of the demons start yelling, and Jaku guesses that they, too, are making acquaintance with the glowing tentacles that now explode from the earth all around them. She has to get back up into the trees. Out of range and hopefully far enough away from the sweet stench of death. 

There's only a little problem. While planning their grand scheme neither Yondu nor her thought about the fact that these strange weapons weren't bows and could therefore not be slung over a shoulder. Climbing would be a tad more difficult with only one hand. Plus this fucker was heavy. Not as heavy as a chunk of metal of this size ought to be, but still.   
Jaku looks up, all the way up to where she has to go, and vaguely wonders how high the fumes actually made her.   
With a growl she shakes her head, trying to clear it, because if she doesn’t get off the ground quick like, she’ll be the next tentacles’ catch. They haven’t forgotten about her, they never do once they were in your brain.   
She strips off her breast band that’s only there to minimize the jiggling when she has to run, and ties it around the weapon. This way she can sling it over her left shoulder and has her bow on the right as a counterweight. Then she climbs.   
It’s what Centaurians are made for, with their strong fingers and their long, flexible toes. The trees are wrapped in vines and moss and other parasitic or symbiotic plant life and she scales it as as if she ran.   
It’s a good thing, too. The lowest branch is just above her, only a little further. Her hands grasp it, she heaves herself up, something wraps around her thigh, and Jaku screams even before the pain registers. A quick look down confirms that barbs are cutting into her flesh, and the tentacle pulls tight. Jaku holds on tighter. Her arms are have a vice like grip on the branch, the toes of her free leg burry into the bark. When the tentacle tries to haul her off, it fails. Barely. It hurts like a bitch though, and she must face the very real possibility of her leg breaking on the next trie. She should probably be grateful that it’s her upper thigh it’s wrapped around and not her shin. The thigh bone is the strongest in most bodies. Jaku groans through her teeth when the tendril pulls tighter, still, and screams again when suddenly something grabs at her shoulder.   
A second one, she thinks, and I’m gonna die. 

“Jaku!” 

Xhava! It’s Xhava above her on the branch, holding onto her with a panicked expression. 

“I let you out of my sight for five minutes!” she grouses, reaching with one hand for her. 

“Wait,” Jaku pants, because what the fuck would an arrow help now? They never did much against this beast, and the only place where the tentacle doesn’t move too much for a clear shot is where it’s wrapped around her leg, anyway. On the ground the demons are still screaming and fighting, their weapons making shrill sounds when they are being fired. The fact that they are still alive and kicking means that those gnarly metal things seem to work better. 

So Jaku says, “The demon weapon,” and then nearly bites her tongue off when the tendril pulls tight again and drives the barbs further in. Her hands are sweaty, her grip getting more slippery with every passing second. She can feel the blood running down her leg, but not her foot that has turned numb because of the pressure.

To her credit, Xhava only hesitates for a split second before she yanks the metal monstrosity out of Jaku’s improvised sling. She handles it like a poisonous snake, and when it first settles into her arms Jaku gets the distinct impression that it’s pointed at Xhava’s own belly. 

“Wait!” she presses out again, and Xhava mumbles, “Right,” as she realizes her mistake and turns the thing around. 

“Look, I’m not sure how they use it, but they got their hands on the downside of it, and-” a bolt of green shots out of the maw like opening at the weapons end and graces the tentacle. 

“Like this?” Xhava says, and fires again, and again and again. The tentacle gets singed by the green flame, and it writhes and strains, like it’s trying to get away from the pain without letting go of its’ prey. It yanks Jaku’s leg around quite a bit, but she feels the stranglehold around her thigh loosen, so she puts all of her strength into her arms and back and _pulls_.   
There’s a slick slide, and the barbs scratch, but one final shot of green flame gets her free. She scrambles up, nearly tumbling into her huntsister, and rips the demon weapon out of her arms to shove it back into the sling. Together they nearly fly up the tree to get to a saver height. 

They’re in the treetop when Jaku finally deems it a good place to rest. Not that there is anywhere higher to go. She sits with her sore leg stretched out in front of her, her back resting against the trunk, and looks up where the leafs let little splats of blue sky shine through. 

“Where are the others,” she pants while Xhava uses some cloth from her bag to bandage Jaku’s leg. 

“Further west and far enough up that the smell doesn’t hit so hard anymore. You’re lucky. This doesn’t look deep, just messy. The bruising will be extensive, though.”

“Yeah, I can feel that, thanks.” She breathes deep, then gets to her feet to test how good her leg works now that the panic is over. Putting pressure on it hurts, but it doesn’t cripple her. 

“Anyone hurt?” 

“Yeah, Ipo got entranced and fell of a branch, but he smacked on the one right beneath. Nothing worse than a busted nose and a few scrapes. The rest kept each other out of trouble like you told us to.” 

The last part is said reproachfully, and Jaku sighs. 

“Yeah, guess I should have followed my own orders.”

“You need someone watching your back,” Xhava says decisively. “Pharaqa had you, and you’ll have me. We’re huntsisters, I won’t leave your side again.” 

She grins, and Jaku grins back. Then they leave to find the rest of their hunters. 

~

When they find them, Jaku wants to smack each and every one of them upside the head. The sight is a fascinating one, she’ll give them that, but ridiculously dangerous, too.   
Down below it is. The center of the quiet spot, the terror of every animal and hunter, the most nightmare inducing creature of the forest. In a deep hole, burrowed into the ground between the roots of the tree giants, lies the yollop.   
Formed like a leech, just a million times bigger, it wriggles in its’ own slime, softly glowing and stinking of rotting fruit so bad that the Zatoans have trouble not to heave. Tentacles sprout from its body to bury themselves in the walls of the hole, anchoring the yollop in its’ nest for the rest of its’ life. It’s blind and wholly dependant on the sense it shares with the Centaurians, an emphatic ability to feel the presence of living things. If Jaku concentrates, she can feel its’ presence in her mind like the beat of distant drums, so deep it seems to vibrate in her chest.   
More tentacles slither over the ground, crawl through the earth to peak out all over the place, posing as mushrooms and filling the air with the yollop’s tantalising bait. Come to close, enter the yollop’s sensory net that stretches everywhere his tendrils reach, and chances are you won’t leave again. The tentacles will break from the ground and snare you up and drag you in, just so you can fall into the yollop’s wide, tooth picked maw, big enough to swallow ten Centaurians whole. 

Right now it lies still, digesting the demons. Only a few of its’ tentacles are slithering up the trees as far as they go, which is nearly to the crowns. A couple meters further, and the hunters would be snacks. One of them, a young woman that had tried her luck with Yondu last season, lies on her stomach, her legs held by a still sniveling Ipo, while she’s holding a rope that hands all the way down to the ground. 

“What in Anthos’ name are you morons doing?!” Jaku hisses, for some reason keeping her voice down even though the yollop can’t hear, either. 

One of them points down. Ipo says, “Most of the demons held onto their weapons a bit tighter than we thought they would. The yollop ate them, too. One we got from the woods with the hook, but there’s another one right here.” 

Jaku follows the gesture and sees, on the very edge of the yollop’s hole, a gnarly metal limb. The girl is trying to fiddle the grappling hook - which is two fishing hooks, only bigger, tied to an arrow - into the space between the weapons shaft and handle. It doesn’t work, and with a drawn out exhale she quickly pulls the rope back up. When it reaches them, Jaku grabs the arrow-hook with the words, “Let the professionals do it,” and takes aim. 

As it turns out, her hunters aren’t crap shots, they’re just all very fucking high, both in the literal as well as the metaphorical sense. They take turns shooting, Jaku and Xhava as well, and they all embarrass themselves terribly. It takes so long that the yollop, in his anger that he can’t reach them, wraps all of his free tentacles around the trunk as far up as possible, and tries to shake them down. It’s one of the weirdest things Jaku has ever seen, since no sane Centaurian sticks around this long to annoy a yollop, and she’d be fascinated if she didn’t have to hold onto her branch in order to not fall to her death. 

~

The rays of the setting sun make their way through the leafs and cover the river's waves with the shine of blinding gold. The roaring of the water falls, only a few hundred meters upstream, nearly drowns out the sounds of the stars passing above the treetops.   
It's happened only a few times since they came here, but each occasion makes the Zatoans in the trees freeze up. Some pray, some whimper, some grip their weapons tight enough to make the wood creak. For now, the stars move on. 

As another hunk of flying metal disappears in the distance, Yondu lets out the breath he was holding and relaxes his grip on Pharaqa's bow. Uzuko, cradling a squirming Ytzl against his chest and covering the boy's mouth with one hand, eyes the canopy with distrust, like he expects a demon to fall through it. 

“How many do you think there are?” Ytzl whispers right into his ear. 

“They all look the same, it’s hard to tell. In the night before we left the village, there were eleven of the moving stars in the sky.”

“Eleven?!” Ytzl nearly shrieks, since that is one of the biggest numbers he’s ever heard. Yondu has been slacking with teaching the counting and prefered to impart the knowledge of which insects and critters were edible, and which would make your insides turn to mush. A lesson more important to Ytzl, who regularly eats any kind of thing, living or not, if his friends dare him to. Never backing down from a challenge, just like his parents, Uzuko thinks with an internal sigh. 

“Now, now, little one. Your father already killed one of them. Don’t you fret,” he reassures his grandson. 

“And the ones that come out of their bellies? Are they Centaurians? Dad said they look like us. Why are they so mean to us? Do they want our village like the Ignokai? ” 

That’s what they get for assuming Ytzl is asleep when they’re having adult talks. Yondu watches his son with a frown. He’s not really in the mood to play twenty questions, but it’s better than crawling out of his skin from the tension caused by Jaku’s absence. She’s late. Very, very late, and he’s still majorly pissed that she left without him, even if he understands the reasoning. Doesn’t mean he has to be rational about this. The uncertainty sits on his breastbone with the weight of an ukki, leaving him feeling like he can never quite get the right amount of air into his lungs, no matter how deeply he inhales. It’s been like this since Jaku left, and he mentally counted down where she must be at every moment, depending on the time of day. She should have been right here, holding her nosy, squirming brat, for hours already. 

“Daaaad,” Ytzl whines to get his attention again. Lying to him won’t do any good. After the shock of what happened, his curiosity is understandable, so Yondu says, “They were blue, but they didn’t have a tahlei.” He reaches over and pinches Ytzl’s crest, making the boy squeal. It’s a happy sound that’s rare at the moment. 

“They called themselves K’Ree,” he continues. The word rasps in his throat and he can’t quite roll his tongue around it the way the demons did. “Said they have an empire. Said they wanted us to serve in their holy war or something.” 

“They are crestless because they are enemies of Anthos. Clearly they want to make us pawns in their fight against Him,” Uzuko adds with conviction. 

“Really?” Ytzl asks. It’s cute how he pretends that he knows what any of this actually means. Like Anthos is more than a vague concept for him. It will still be a few more years before he’ll understand to recognize Anthos in the hum of life around and inside him, to feel His presence in every leaf and every yollop. 

With a decisive nod, Uzuko says, “We shall not lose hope.” 

Yondu would love to claim that it’s pure coincidence that one of the guards rushes up to them right at that moment to tell them that Jaku and her hunters have returned. He sends a quick prayer to Anthos anyway. Just to be on the save side.   
She marches into camp like a warrior chieftain returning victorious, carrying one of the demons’ gnarly metal weapons on her shoulder. Xhava and another hunter each hold their own, too. Jaku grins proudly, apparently not realizing that her face is smeared with some black, dried substance. Blood, Yondu realizes, from a demon.   
She heaves the weapon from her shoulder and presents it to Uzuko with a slight bow. 

“My chief. The weapons of the demons.” 

Uzuko takes it, and has to adjust his grip around the weight of the metal lump that is supposed to spit fire and lightning. 

“I see you have returned with your bounty and without any losses,” he says, sounding as relieved as Yondu feels. Jaku nods. 

“We might need to make some small adjustments, but we have achieved our goal.” 

She motions for the other two hunters to bring their bounty forth as well. 

“Prove that we can bring the fight to them.” Her grin goes dirty, and she says loudly, so that the surrounding people can hear her, “Tomorrow we can go and kill some more!”

~

Lo-Mara glares at the green hell surrounding her, the over-sized trees with their thick canopy that blocks off the sky, the creeping vines that cover the entire forest floor and seem to have a mind of their own. They're a special kind of annoying. since they hold onto the ankles or protruding armor pieces of passers by, but only the Kree soldiers’, never the savages native to this world who move through the underbrush like wind.   
It's hot, but contrary to the dry heat of Hala the air here is heavy with moisture, making her skin slick with sweat and her garments under the body armor sodden and plastered to her uncomfortably. Not even the nights bring relieve. She feels perpetually dirty since setting foot on this mud ball, and all because of one lucky shot, and the boy who made it.   
With a last glare, she turns away from the clearings edge and marches back over to her soldiers, standing at attention, their gazes fixed on a point in the middle distance. While the damaged shuttle has been removed, as well as the empty, useless cages and the carcasses of fallen soldiers, this is the site of the first defeat of the Kree empire by the hands of those dirty savages. She's reminded of that fact when blackened bones crunch under her boots. With a scoff she looks down at a small, charred skull before her feet, and gives it a kick. They took the time to burn their dead. What foolery such pagan religion can produce. By the time Lo-Mara is done with them, the scarce remains of those barbarians will be cursing their primitive gods. But before that can happen, she has to _find_ them. 

“Listen up, you worthless sons of half blood whores!” she roars, and her soldiers go impossibly tenser. “You've been in this vermin infested swamp for a whole fucking week, hunting those savages, and you did not only fail to find them, you also lost,” and here she growls the words out from between her teeth, bared in a grimace, “three entire squads.” No matter how she phrases it, this is going to look really bad in her next report. She’s only been here for an hour, transferred from the east coast of this continent, where she oversaw the harvest of the fishing villages. The right hand man of the Accuser himself gave her orders to come here and take care of a special business. If it was up to her, she’d simply burned down the entire forest. The loss of the few tribes in the mountains would not have any significant impact on the slave intake. Their numbers could be neglected next to the great merchant tribes on the southern continent that were a lot easier to round up. One member of those mountain tribes, though, was to be caught alive. The boy that caused all this destruction. The Accuser wanted him, for some reason, and Lo-Mara didn’t make it her business to question an Accusers orders. 

She takes a deep breath, inhaling the stink of wet wood and decaying leafs. What would she give for the air filtering systems of the battleship in orbit. She is a warrior, descendent of a long line of warriors, not a fucking tracker f’saki. 

Sweetly, she asks, “Anyone want to explain to me how that is possible?” 

No answer is coming forth. The eyes of her soldiers are all trained on some point above her shoulder. Not a muscle in their faces moves. Lo-Mara spits at their feet and marches off to the patrol ship that came back only a few minutes earlier. The soldiers are left standing at attention. If they’re too terrified to move, then they can stay there for an hour or two, let them think about their mistakes. 

“Anything new?!” she hollers after coming up behind the pilot and the tech checking over the new data, and to her satisfaction, they both flinch. 

“I told you on the comms already, mam. The metal in those mountains interferes with the advanced sensors, and there are too many animals running around that forest to find a few scattered people through their heat signatures alone,” the tech says. 

“They aren’t people, they’re barely more than wild animals themselves,” she corrects him. Without looking at her he mumbles, “Smart enough to figure out how to evade us, though.” 

“And how is that possible? Huh?” she hollers. Apparently since the last overseer’s death, there isn’t much discipline in this part of the forest. “How did a bunch of naked mud dwellers figure out how to stay hidden from us?” 

Neither the pilot nor the tech look her in the eye. She’ll remember to punish them later, but they are saved from her immediate anger by the crackle of her wrist comm. 

“Overseer Lo-Mara,” it hisses. “There is a transmission from the flagship. Mission details.” 

Without a backwards glance at these useless pack, she marches to her personal shuttle and reviews the info. A detailed report about the escape and ensuing damage to their shuttle. The first reports of the scientists experimenting with the savages up on the flagship. Apparently, they are empathetic, like some of the wild life of this world. She curses. There she has the most likely reason for the successful evasion of any Kree patrol in the forest so far. They can maybe _feel_ them coming. That’s why the village must have been empty when the first shuttles landed in this region.   
Then there’s a video file attached. The footage that the security cameras caught from the uprising of the savages. Her target is marked. If he dies, she will, too, the accompanying message tells her. She watches the footage again and again, burns his face into her memory. She sees him pick up the overseer’s wrist comm, again and again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3  
> This is the first fic I publish, so please let me know what you think. 
> 
> Have a great day, friend!


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